


Six Shooter (For Now)

by ChaosController



Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Human AU, M/M, Wild West AU, hunters vs outlaws, i'm trying hard to give you guys more set up like what places look like and stuff, joan and talyn are bartenders, kinda logan centric but i attempt to get all of their sides of the story, logan and roman hunt outlaws for a living, pattons a bartender, sorry if i do a bad job with that, the only ocs are logans family and his romantic pursuers, thomas is like virgil's boss, virgil is an outlaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-12-25 17:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 95,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12040452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosController/pseuds/ChaosController
Summary: The American frontier period, what a time to be alive. Hunters bringing in outlaws left and right, and outlaws doing their darndest to keep their jobs.In a little town called Akers town lives many diverse people, most good. There are the Lilacs,  good people; the father is a property owner, the eldest son a hunter of outlaws, and the youngest barely half his brother's height. There's Mr. King, another outlaw hunter. The towns bartender; known only by his first name. And then there's Mr. Saderson, a traveler who spends time in the small town.Then...there's the outlaw; Mr. Hunterson.(AKA Wild West AU with human sides. Something no one asked for, wanted and is probably trash that came from my sleep deprived brain. I'm aiming for one chapter a week. Enjoy if you can :) )





	1. Guns, Outlaws and Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> So...the gist of it is Logan and Roman hunt outlaws and come back to their home town, Akers town, every now and again. Our story begins with them on one such journey traveling home to meet up with family and friends. Though it will not become apparent until later Logan's father, the head of the Lilac household, desperately wants his son to marry and settle down, while Logan would rather be free and live his life as an outlaw hunter. 
> 
> Roman lives alone with his own property and has known Logan since they were children. 
> 
> Patton owns a bar and serves drinks to everyone with a smile. 
> 
> Thomas is kinda deceitful, but I needed a villain and you're all going to hate me anyway so why bother trying to make up an OC that fit into his role. 
> 
> Virgil is an outlaw with a big heart. 
> 
> Joan tends to the bar Virgil spends most of his time in and Di is Virgil's horse. 
> 
> Everyone who isn't an OC is either 28 or close to that, like their real life counterparts. 
> 
> Okay, any questions on why I'm writing this? No, okay good. Let the hate come, I have an umbrella and about 8 hours of sleep under my belt. Come at me!

A shot rang through the air as the bullet impaled the old, rusty can. 

“You try now”, the young boy said, handing the firearm off to his friend. The weapon was readied and loaded as the young boy took it in both hands, lined up the muzzle and closed one in in concentration. He stuck out his tongue and wet his lips before he pulled the trigger and hit the can dead on.

 

Roman yawned and sunk further into the saddle of his horse. He looked out across the desert and frowned as he grabbed the old canteen at his side. He tilted his head back and took a swig from the metal container, cringing at warmness of it. Drinking warm water in a desert just wasn’t right, he decided as he looked over at his travel companion. Logan sat still on his horse, hat perfectly balanced on his head to shade him from the harsh sun. He didn’t look to be that deep in thought, but his face was sullen and blank. He had barely touched his water and Roman felt a sliver of guilt pierce his heart because he knew he was the reason for that. Logan could survive on the bare minimum of water, but Roman loved the stuff when they traveled. So, Logan didn’t drink much, knowing that Roman would want more water than he actually carried. 

“Logan?”, Roman asked and the other’s head spun around softly at the mention of his name. 

“Yes, Roman?”, Logan asked, eloquent speaking patterns returning as he talked. 

“When do you think we’ll get back home?”, Roman asked, biting his lip as his horse’s legs shuddered slightly. He swallowed and looked at the slowly descending sun, red and pink painting the blue sky with more color than usual. 

“Judging by how tired our horses seem to be, it may be a few more days before we reach Akers town”, Logan said as his horse slowed until he was next to Roman. The pair fell into silence until Roman sighed and leaned towards Logan. “You appear to be tired as well. Perhaps we should stop for the night.”

“Thank you”, Roman said softly as he stopped his horse near a group of rocks and hopped down, gathering his saddlebag for a pillow and slipping down to rest. Logan rolled his eyes and slid off his horse, taking out two pegs and nailing them into the ground to tie the horses up for the night. He grabbed his own saddle bag and lit the small pile of kindle from his pack to get a fire going. They needed to work in shifts so they didn’t get robbed. Logan settled down by the horses and cracked his neck in preparation for the night ahead.

 

Twirling a pistol could only remain entertaining for so long, Logan surmised as he flipped the firearm into the air for the fifteenth time and caught it without any problems. He sighed lightly and tilted his head back to look up at the star-studded sky. He scratched the back of his neck and watched the little lights wink at him from their position high above the ground in the sky. He smiled a little as he remembered what his father had said about the stars.

“Each one is like a human soul. So, plentiful, yet so different”, Logan recounted as he twirled the pistol around his finger again, stopping as the fire dimmed more. He supposed he may as well let it die, considering it would be morning in a few hours. 

He chuckled as he twirled the pistol again. Roman would be rather angry that he had not been woken by Logan for a night shift. He’d be so mad that Logan had let him sleep the whole night without a break, while Logan spent his night awake waiting for bandits to attack. 

He stopped the twirling motion of his pistol and looked over the metal plating, rubbing the swirls dug into the cold metal. His gloved fingers tapped the metal softly, creating a rhythm as the sky above began to lighten. Logan smiled as the sun glared off the metal, turning the ravines in the metal white before fading to the silver of its natural coloring. With a sigh, he pushed the firearm back into place at his side and stood, stretching as the world began to heat up. Roman stirred as the morning sun’s heat bit into his cold body and awoke him from his slumber. 

With a flourish, Logan pulled on a large piece of fabric to cover his body from neck down. He grabbed his saddle bag, loaded up his horse and swung himself up and into the saddle. 

“Let’s go, Roman”, Logan said looking at the horizon as Roman yawned and began to tidy up, mimicking Logan’s movements with a sluggish demeanor. He yawned again as he sat in the saddle and the two set off on their journey again. 

“You didn’t wake me up for my shift”, Roman complained sleepily as the duo kicked their horses into gear and began their slow trot across the barren, sun-bleached plains. 

“You needed the sleep”, Logan replied keeping his eyes on the trail ahead of them as Roman slid down a little in his saddle and began to nod off. 

“You know I don’t need that much sleep. I’d have been”, Roman cut himself off with a loud yawn and Logan rolled his eyes, a soft smile gracing his features. “Happy to take over”, Roman finished off and Logan dropped back a bit to grab the reins of his horse as Roman drifted off into the darkness of slumber again. Logan chuckled a little and kept the horses going, stopping once or twice to check the sun and give the horses some water. 

Roman didn’t wake up until the town came into view, and Logan couldn’t really blame him. They’d traveled non-stop for the past few weeks and at one point the other had pushed on and through the night in an attempt to get there faster. But now with Akers town looming over them from the top of the hill, it could be said it was worth it. 

Logan fingered the grip of his pistol as they entered the town. It’d been a while since the duo had been back home and it was still as busy as ever. The people bustled about the town, shopping for various things as they walked from place to place. Logan smirked at the sight of the old bar, wondering if Patton still maintained the beauty of a building. He felt Roman tug on the horse reins and he dropped them to allow his companion to take over.

“You’re heading home?”, Roman asked as Logan kept his horse on track. 

“Naturally. I’ll meet you in the bar”, Logan said as he kicked his horse and sped off towards a lone house. Roman watched, smile vanishing as Logan turned into a dark dot moving slowly up the hill towards one of many large houses dotting the hilly area. He slipped off his own horse and tied the beast up before venturing into Patton’s bar. 

Patton was rather on the small, lean side with a smile to match the radiance of the sun. While he may not have been Logan’s cup of tea, he was certainly Roman’s. With a flick of his, wrist Roman entered the bar and took a seat on a stool, smirking as he took the material off from around his shoulders and bundled it up next to him. 

“Morning, stranger. What can I get for you?”, Patton asked, smiling at Roman who felt his insides melt a little at the sunniness of Patton’s upturned lips. 

“Is a tall glass of you on the menu?”, Roman asked, flashing a dazzling smile Patton’s way. The man giggled lightly and pulled out a glass to fill with water.

“Water it is then. Good to see you back in town”, Patton said as he filled the glass and pushed it in Roman’s direction. Roman’s smile turned into a smirk and he downed the water, sighing as he felt the cool liquid travel down his throat. 

 

Logan slipped off his horse and tied the creature to the closest tree. He walked up to the door of the house and knocked on the wood, waiting patiently as footsteps neared the front of the house. He smiled softly as the door opened and a small boy looked up at him with a shocked expression. He knelt and smiled wider at the boy.

“Logan’s home!”, the small boy cried as she jumped at him and he wrapped his arms around her back and neck, her weight pushing him back off his feet. He landed heavily and chuckled as he held the boy close. 

“Logan. Are you well son?”, a loud voice asked and Logan opened his eyes to look up at his father, all smiles and gray hair. 

“I am well. Roman and I have just returned from our trip and I was eager to see how Anthony had grown”, Logan responded as his father gently grabbed the Anthony and pulled him off his older brother. 

“How is that rapscallion these days? I dearly hope his ego has not infested you as well”, the old man laughed, Logan chuckled softly as he stood and dusted himself off. 

“Roman is doing well from what I can gather, and you need not worry, his ego has had no effect on me”, Logan said as he looked up at his father. The man clapped his hands together and Anthony smiled up at his brother from in front of his father. Anthony giggled and ran into the house as their father turned, clapping a hand down on Logan’s shoulder and driving his son inside after the younger brother. 

They ended up in the living room. Logan sat down opposite his father as Anthony ran up and launched himself into his older brother’s lap, laughing hysterically as he rolled on the older boy’s legs. 

“Now Logan, I know you’ve been away for a while, but I would like you to meet someone”, the old man said and Logan stopped smiling, feeling as if he knew what his father would say next.

A woman walked into the room, small and shy as every other girl the head of the house had brought in. Logan looked her over and almost sighed. It was the same spiel as ever; settle down, find a spouse, marry, have children and take care of the farm.

“This is Louise. She’s the daughter of James McCredie and Helen McCredie. She loves to read and knows her way around a horse”, Logan’s father said and Logan held back the urge to grimace. He didn’t want to settle down, especially not with someone like Louise McCredie. He’d grown up with her, she was like his sister. His father must be running out of options. 

“I think it’d be better if I left”, Louise said, knowing Logan felt uncomfortable. She left quickly and the door shut softly behind her fleeing form. 

“Logan, just…think about it. You need to settle down. I don’t care who with. Male, female, anyone is better than no one at this point”, the old man said and Logan sighed, pushing himself into the couch as his younger brother jumped off his lap and ran out into the kitchen. 

“Father. I can’t settle down right now. I need to be free for a while. I’ve waited too long now for my freedom. It’s exhilarating to ride with no inhibitors but your horse’s condition and the people you ride with. I-…I want to be able to live a little longer. Please, don’t stop me from doing my job”, Logan pleaded. His father sighed heavily and sat back, closing his eyes as he thought. “These people need me. Don’t make me abandon them, I beg you.”

“Fine. But I want you married by the end of the year”, the man said and Logan smiled at him. Anthony bolted into the room and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist.

“Are you leaving again?”, Anthony asked with a whimper.

“No, not yet. I need to talk to Roman and Patton first, then I’ll come back. I’ll stay for the week”, Logan said softly as he ruffled Anthony’s hair and smiled down at the young boy.

“Promise?”, Anthony asked and Logan nodded.

“I promise.”

 

Logan rode down to the bar a few minutes later smiling as he eyed Roman’s horse. He stayed his horse and tied it to the same pole as Roman’s. He entered the bar and took a seat near Roman.

“Welcome back, Logan”, Patton said as he leaned on the bar and smiled at Logan.

“Good day to you, Patton. I see you still run this fine establishment”, Logan said with a small smile as Patton grabbed a glass and filled it with water, handing it to the man before he leaned back against the liquor lined up behind glass, ready to be drunk by those with money to spare. 

“Yeah, still got a hold of the bar. Haven’t lost it yet”, Patton said, patting a column that led up to the roof. 

“Careful, it might fall down if you do that”, Roman said with a huff of laugher. Patton pulled his hand away and pouted at the other man. 

“How was your family?”, Patton asked, knowing Logan would go to his family before venturing into the bar to see how he and Roman were holding up. 

“Anthony has grown and my father…he is…deteriorating in more ways than one”, Logan said, taking a drink from his glass as his eyes landed on a stool a few feet away from the group. 

“Who’d he bring to the house this time for you to marry?”, Patton asked and Roman spat out his water, apologizing quickly as Patton gave him a glare. 

“He’s still on you about marriage?”, Roman asked incredulously. Having known Logan, the longest of himself and Patton, his reaction was considered quite normal. 

“Yes, he is. He brought Louise around, but she fled the scene not a minute later than she was introduced”, Logan said, swishing the leftover water around in the glass as he spoke.

“Louise, you mean Louise McCredie. You two are like family though. He must be running low on possible matches for you if he went for Louise”, Roman said with an amused smirk as he passed his glass to Patton and watched the bartender wash and dry the container. 

“I assume so. He has yet to go for either of you though, so...that’s something I presume”, Logan said with an easy smile while Patton giggled and Roman rolled his eyes.

“He doesn’t care who you marry, so long as you marry someone”, Patton sighed, turning to put the glass away.

“You’re not wrong”, Roman said with a snort as he bumped his elbow into Logan’s upper arm. “I suppose he’ll start bringing ‘round the farmer's boys next. Who’d ya ‘spose will be the first? Little Gerald or that bull of a man Wilbur?”, Roman asked and Logan sputtered a little at Roman’s joke. Patton chuckled, turning back to lean against the bar.

“I know who he’ll try to set you up with”, Patton said leaning back as the other two shifted closer in anticipation for his answer. “Thomas”, Patton said with a smirk.

“H-he wouldn’t bring Thomas around. He knows that Thomas is…well…he’s just not right for Logan. Thomas is used to the big places, like Tarensville and Correlstone. Places where you can go inside and loose the heat”, Roman said with a little bit of a stutter.

“Well, maybe a city boy with a load of money is just what your old man wants”, Patton said with a wink and Logan flushed at the insinuation. Ture, he wasn’t the wealthiest nor did he rake in much money from his job. But his father knew he didn’t need the money, or care about living a life of luxury. He could handle the farm without all the money Thomas would bring to the table. 

“I don’t think he’d do that. Set me up with someone like Thomas just for the money”, Logan said, huffing lightly before he chuckled. 

“Well, how about Terrance? Boys got a bright smile and attitude to match”, Patton said, holding up a hand as Roman opened his mouth and a group of strangers called for the bartender to order drinks. “I’ll be right back.”

Roman sighed and let his head hit the bar.

“I assume you have yet to tell him”, Logan said, sipping the little water left as he watched, bemused, as Roman’s head shot up with a shocked expression on his face.

“I-…I…I uh, n-no. What…what are you talking about?”, Roman asked, flushing a little as Logan smirked softly and raised an eyebrow at his question.

“Stop being such a chicken and ask him out already”, Logan said turning his head to smile at Patton who was walking back their way, having tended to the needs of the other group. 

“I-I’m not a chicken!”, Roman cried out, regretting it when he eyed the two faces now looking at him with somewhat amused shock and complete shock. 

“Mmhmm, you keep telling yourself that”, Logan muttered into his glass as Patton rushed over.

“What was that all about?”, the bartender asked quickly, looking more worried and Roman grumbled, groaned and shrunk back into his stool, while Logan just set his glass down and grabbed his hat.

“I’m off to look at the sheriff’s board. Be back in ten”, he murmured as he stood and walked out the door.

“I’m going to strangle him one day”, Roman growled lowly as Patton frowned at him and took Logan’s glass away.

 

Logan glanced over the wanted posters feeling his mind working to categorize the best deals and worst criminals. Which one would be the hardest to catch, which would be the easiest. Which had the greatest bounty and which had the smallest. He smiled as he tore a page off the board and began his walk back to the bar. A gun shot echoed through the air and Logan heard a couple of people scream. He raced to the nearest barrel and hid behind it as another shot was fired. He peeked out and swallowed as his eyes danced across the scattered dust clouds for the one who had shot the gun. His eyes landed on a man atop a horse, gun in the air and a bandanna around his mouth. The face was familiar, but he couldn’t place it as a woman screamed from the center of the road. Logan’s eyes darted to a woman holding her child close, as the horse and man neared, eyes cold as he looked down at the two in front of him. Logan bit his lip and pulled out his pistol, he’d need two clean shots to take down the man, he couldn’t afford to miss. 

A shot rang through the air and Logan looked around the barrel again. Roman stood at the entrance of the bar, pistol drawn and Logan could only think of how much of an idiot his best friend was being. Logan drew and fired his pistol as the horse reared up and the man growled at the two gunmen. He turned and bolted, muttering curses behind him as Roman rushed for the civilians and Logan watched him go. Logan sighed and raced towards Roman who was ushering the duo out of the road, smiling charmingly as usual. 

“T-thank you”, the mother said as she held her child close. Logan looked back at the route the man had taken. He wanted to go after him, but he knew better. The man would be back with reinforcements if he could muster the help. 

 

Virgil growled as he pulled his horse to a trot. He rubbed his chin and let his hand trail to the knife concealed in his coat pocket. Who were those two? Where did they learn how to shoot like that?

Di reared a little, slowing to a walk before stopping altogether. Virgil sighed and slid off the large creature, grabbing some food and water so he could feed the horse. Di ate gratefully and Virgil took a seat on a dusty rock, murmuring to himself about how unfair it was. He didn’t like robbing places like Akers town, little nowhere towns that made silence and peacefulness look loud and brash in comparison. Places like that were full of good people who barely left the town, made their fortunes in other families and livestock. He hated taking from people like that, people who were just…living. 

He took a swig of his water and coughed, eyes widening as the faces of the two popped into his mind. The more he thought about them the more familiar they became until it dawned on him. He’d seen those faces on fliers up around one of the few outlaw bars. Logan Magenta and Roman Prince, two of the best in the business of bringing outlaws like him to justice. The real question was, why where they in Akers town? Akers town was miles from anything and everything else. It was a detour you made only if you needed to or had the supplies to want to. Quaint? Yes. Hospitable? Yes. But easy to get to? Definitely not. Why would two of the best outlaw hunters be there?

Virgil pondered the idea, trying to come up with reasons, the only few he could think of were; family and spouses. The latter of which made his stomach turn slightly, because who’d want to marry someone that would constantly have to be away, hunting and making you worry if you were ever going to see them again. It could be they had family in Akers town, why they’d left to become hunters was beyond Virgil though. 

With a shake of his head, the outlaw stood and gripped Di’s saddle, hauling himself back up and kicking the mare off, dust clouds forming in his wake. He hoped they wouldn’t come after him, the two hadn’t seemed to be moving that fast as he had been speeding away. Still, he couldn’t take any chances of them following him to his boss’s place. He pulled Di off the track and into the sand, hoping the mare wouldn’t refuse as he pushed her to move through the tiny stones. Di didn’t refuse and Virgil thanked his lucky stars as he moved the mare off and on the path, making it a mess of hoof prints leading to and fro. He smirked at his work before kicking the horse into a faster pace and setting off to the bar. 

 

He pulled Di up to the crumbling building, grimacing as she tried to pull away. Even his horse knew this place didn’t bode well. But he didn’t have a choice, he had to go in and face the music, one way or another. And he’d rather not think about…the other way. Virgil shivered a little as images of buff people holding large sticks and guns came to mind.

He tired the mare to the railing and flinched as the door slammed open, a patron stumbling out accompanied by two burly men, guns drawn and ready to fire. Just an average day at an outlaw bar, Virgil thought, grabbing what little money he had and walking inside, ducking his head and pulling front of his hat down. He didn’t need to be spotted by one of his boss’s goons right now. What he needed was something strong, a rest and to get over to Masonville so he could hold up the bank and get some money, too bad his luck was pretty weak. 

“Virgil!”, a loud, jovial voice called out and the bar stilled. Virgil grumbled a little, glowered at the man that stood atop the stairs, hand on the banister. “It’s good to see you again, old friend”, his boss called, making a few people look from the dark stranger to his employer before standing and moving to the door. Okay, so he was kind of a big shot in the outlaw business but if these guys were chicken enough to leave when he was noticed they had no right to call themselves outlaws. 

Virgil scratched the side of his nose and walked to the stairs, taking one last look at the group of people, gripping his pistol and letting his index finger graze the trigger. He blinked, slowly pulled his gun up a little and let a small smirk slip onto his face as some people scrambled for the door. With a small chuckle, the outlaw proceeded to walk up the stairs, his employer gave him a somewhat displeased look before the two entered one of the rooms upstairs. Virgil shuffled in and took a seat in the high-backed chair that all the employees sat in when they were being addressed by the boss. 

“Virgil”, the man began, eyes narrowing when the other put his feet up on the desk and scratched his neck with one of his pistols. Virgil frowned and glared at his boss, swinging his feet off the desk and letting the boots thud on the floor loudly. His boss moved from the door to behind his desk, gliding across the dusty planks. “Virgil, what have you brought me today?”, the man asked, swiping at his brown hair while Virgil pushed his seat into a better position on the other side of the desk. He tried to act confident, or as confident as someone can be when faced with their nightmare. 

“Nothing much. Little bit of money, but not heaps. Town was fresh out when I got there”, Virgil said with a small growl, keeping his sentences short and to the point, no need to anger the boss more than he already would be when he found out how much the darkly clothed outlaw was carrying. 

“How much is not much? I need figures Verge”, the man said with a small growl of his own. Virgil pulled out his personal stash and dropped it onto the desk, hoping that the man wouldn’t bother checking how much was in there and would just take it and his lie at face value. The man picked up the bag, letting it rise and fall in his hand, the other cupping his face while his elbow supported it from the desk. The brunette exhaled, a sigh rolling past his lips. “That’s it? That’s all you could get out of…where did you go again?”, his boss asked and Virgil scowled making the man roll his eyes. There was silence for a while before Virgil coughed. 

“Akers town. I went to Akers town”, Virgil said, immediately regretting it as his boss’s face lit up, expression switching between confusion and happiness. 

“Oh, really?”, his boss asked and Virgil felt the prickle of sweat on his back and neck. 

“Y-yeah…little town out north of here. Pretty small, wouldn’t have had much even if it wasn’t robbed”, Virgil said, sinking back as his boss’s face broke out into a dark smirk. 

“Akers town, huh? Now, Verge, you should have just told me you couldn’t rob the place”, the man said and Virgil felt his body stiffen, ice poured through his veins and his throat began to close up. How did his boss know about Akers town?

“Wh-what?”, Virgil asked, voice scratchy, he coughed, trying to cover it up but his boss was already grinning from ear to ear. 

“Oh, Virgil, I visit Akers town every few weeks. They know me. But for them, I’m just some traveling salesman. Let me let you in on a little trade secret. Don’t go to Akers town. For one thing, there are two gunmen who have family there and they would hunt you to the end of the earth if they found you, and the other thing”, his boss said, grabbing Virgil’s bandanna and pulling him in close over the desk, eyes glittering with ill intent, “you never rob the place you do business in. So…if I ever hear you went to Akers town and tried to rob the place again, you will be out of the job and, quite possibly, dead.”

Virgil swallowed softly and almost jumped back when his boss released him. He gently rubbed at his throat. 

“You have my word then. I won’t go back…for money at least”, Virgil said softly and his boss gave him a dark smirk. 

“Good boy. Now, go downstairs, and take this with you”, his boss said, throwing the small sack to him, “you’ll need if for drinks and a place to sleep on your next trip. Don’t let me down next time.”

“Yes, sir. Thomas, sir”, Virgil said, exiting the room as the brunette leaned back, a chuckle resonating around the room.


	2. Saderson and Lilac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Saderson, at your service. Deceit expert and outlaw boss extraordinaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like uploading this now. Thank you to all of you who are going to continue to read this :)
> 
> This chapter delves into small things like Thomas role in the town and Virgil dressing up normal to investigate his boss. Nothing too major and not heaps of character development.

“Did you have to do that?”, Roman asked as the pair walked away from the bar, the setting sun making the metal of their pistols glow like molten lava. 

“Yes. Why can’t you just tell him you like him? I’m fairly certain your feelings are reciprocated”, Logan said shaking his head a little as the pair walked further out of the town towards the farms and ranch houses. Corrugated iron roofs shining, sunlight rippling off them in waves of light and dark. 

“H-he…how do you know that?”, Roman asked, looking around, checking to see if anyone was listening. He needn’t have checked as no one else populated the road for miles upon miles. 

“I may be rather emotionless, but I can tell when certain things…arise”, Logan said, moving forward at a quicker pace and leaving Roman to check the road, before remembering they were supposed to be walking together and running to catch up with his friend. 

“Don’t leave me behind like that”, Roman said, bumping his shoulder against Logan’s making the other roll his eyes and sigh. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, Logan said sarcastically and Roman took the opportunity to let out a laugh. They walked in silence until Roman’s house came into view, the white peeling paint coated with a light covering of red sand and dust. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If I don’t, come find me in the bar”, Roman said as he pushed the small, rusty metal gate open, shutting it behind him and taking his leave as he walked inside the empty house. 

“Good night to you, Roman”, Logan murmured as he began the trek to his own house, further off than Roman’s. The land grew dark, stars appearing in the sky and glittering like silver coins against the inky, blue abyss. He let his fingers graze his pistols. Their grips cold as the world began to chill and cool. Cold settling into the sand and rocks, making him shiver a little and walk a little faster. There was a snap and Logan pulled out his firearms, coat flying out a little at the quick and swift motions. An owl hooted in the distance, but Logan’s eyes were trained on the multiple bushes and shrubs that lined the path. He waited a few minutes before something caught his attention and he whipped around to face…Thomas. 

“Hey, hey, easy. Ha, next time I won’t sneak up on you like that”, the man said and Logan sighed, putting his pistols back in their places on the sides of his hips. 

“I apologise, I thought you may be an outlaw. I should know by now that no outlaws would come here”, Logan muttered, berating himself as the man before him looked over him. 

“No, it’s fine. It’s your job to be on guard at all times”, Thomas said, a small smile leaking onto his face. Logan’s hand grazed his pistol as the smile reminded him of one of the many outlaws he had captured. He shook his head, letting the thought drift away. Thomas was a good man. Given he was the town’s only source of outside income besides himself and Roman. 

“Thank you…for understanding”, Logan said with a soft smile. He turned and glanced at his house, small porch lit by the orange tones of a lamp. 

“Shall I walk you home?”, Thomas asked and Logan blinked, looking back at the brunette with widening eyes. 

“Oh no. I should be the one to escort you home. You are, after all, our time-honoured guest. What would we do if something happened to you?”, Logan said, a small smile on his face as Thomas let out a polite chuckle. The traveller’s eyes lingered on Logan’s house for a while longer before he shook his head softly. 

“I insist. You seem a little on edge and my house is only the next one over from your own. I will be fine. You needn’t worry about my safety so much”, Thomas said, smirk playing on his lips. 

“Well…alright, let us be on our way then”, Logan said, heat creeping up his neck as Thomas reached forward, a smile on his face, and grabbed Logan’s hand. 

“Let us”, Thomas said, rubbing a thumb over Logan’s gloved hand and taking the opportunity to lead the other back to his house. Logan smiled a little as Thomas bowed, smiled and walked away from Logan, who he’d left on the porch. The smile grew when Thomas stumbled a little in the dark, righting himself with an embarrassed blush spreading over his cheeks. “I bid you good night”, Thomas said as he moved to the gate of his house and walked through it, making his way down the path to the dark house. 

“And to you as well”, Logan said softly, watching until Thomas had entered his house before letting a small, relieved sigh pass his lips. Thomas may not be ideal, but he wasn’t…wouldn’t be a bad spouse. Logan shook his head roughly. How could he think that? How could he even think of settling down? He was a hunter. An outlaw hunter at that. He…he couldn’t be thinking of settling down…with Thomas no less. Could he? Could he actually entertain thought of…of living with him? Logan sighed once more, figure slouching as he walking to the door, opened it and walked inside, grumbling quietly at himself. 

“Ah, there you are my boy”, an old voice said and Logan had to bite back a growl as his father called out to him. He forced a smile and looked into the living room. His father sat, reclined in a high-backed chair with a copy of one of his favourite books.

“I have returned. And Anthony?”, Logan asked looking towards the stairs where he assumed Anthon would be, asleep. 

“Asleep. So…”, the old man said, putting his book to the side with a smirk. “Thomas, huh? Guess I shouldn’t have worried. If I’d left you, you’d probably have found love much sooner.”

“T-Thomas and I are not in love”, Logan sputtered irately, red and peach missing on his skin as he adjusted his glasses. 

“So, you say, but your cheeks and attitude say different”, the man said, pushing his back into the chair with a sigh. “Just try to be cordial. He’s a nice boy and I’d hate to see you scare your to be husband off.”

“Thomas and I are not in love”, Logan repeated with more vehemence. 

“If you say so”, the man said, picking up his book and opening it up once more, effectively ending the conversation. Logan grunted softly and grumbled under his breath, taking his leave up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as he could out of fear of waking Anthony. He’d talk to his father about it tomorrow and then he’d put the old man in his place. 

Logan pulled off his boots and set them down, picking them up and carrying them to his room. Books lined the walls on shelves and off, dust covering many of the book piles. If occurred to him that Thomas could probably bring him back books in other languages or set in places he’d never visit. With a shake of his head and a sigh accompanied by a smile, Logan fell back onto his beg, coat splaying out under him and guns rattling slightly in their holsters. He turned over on the bed and pulled his hat off, dropping the leather and fabric onto the floor. He shrugged off his coat and holsters, dropping his pants and shirt to the floor with a grimace. He pulled the covers back and slipped into bed with a small sigh, thoughts of the day’s events flooding his mind until the mist of sleep descended, eyes dropping closed and glasses pulled off as he drifted off to sleep. 

 

“Logan!”, a voice cried out and Logan let out a wheeze as something landed on his chest and legs, making them ache with pain. He quickly adjusted himself and grabbed his glasses looking down as Anthony hugged his chest with a wide grin. Logan allowed himself to smile as the boy wriggled in his lap, laughing slightly at the older sibling’s slight distress. 

“Good morning to you as well, Anthony”, Logan said with a sigh, voice breathy with the sudden constriction around his chest and stomach. 

“Good, you’re awake now. Let’s go to town or out of it. I want you to teach me how to shoot”, Anthony said making Logan chuckle at the eagerness in his voice. He sat up more making his younger brother fall onto his back. 

“How’s this, you leave me to change and I’ll think about it?”, Logan offered and Anthony’s face lit up. The small boy scrambled out of the room, slamming the door shut as he left Logan to change. The hunter chuckled lightly and took the chance to wash his face, dry it and change into other clothes, apart from his usual hunter gear. He grabbed his holsters and pistols, strapping them to his sides once more and covering his body with a lighter coat than he had used the previous day. He grabbed his boots, quickly turning them upside down, dust and sand pouring out into a small pile before he shoved his feet into them. 

Logan walked out of his room and shut his door, making his way downstairs where Anthony was looking at the floor with a sad expression. Upon noticing his brother was at the top of the stairs he shook his head and tilted it towards the living room where voices could be heard. Logan tilted his head to the side in question and Anthony held up his ring finger, pointing to it with his other index finger. Logan smirked a little, nodded, took his boots off and walked down the stairs quietly. The voices didn’t stop talking and the two brothers took the chance to sneak out through the kitchen. They let out quiet chuckles and giggles as they walked snuck to the stables, got their horses and saddled them up. They let out twin yelps of happiness and enjoyment as they rode past the house and out of the gate, horses galloping at full speed down the hill towards the town. They heard a yell and looked back to see their father calling out to them to come back, face a picture of fury. Logan just laughed and pushed his horse down faster.

Anthony smiled. He liked this. He liked seeing his brother so free and joyful. It was one of the reasons he’d suggested they leave in the first place. His brother needed this. Some time alone with someone who wasn’t going to drag him down. He wondered if Logan would appreciate Roman joining them. The other man was a little hard to wake in the morning, but if he could help Logan smile more Anthony would drag him to hell and back to wake him. There was one other reason he wanted to learn how to shoot, but that reason was better left for Logan to find out. 

They slowed their horses as they rode through the town’s centre, people already bustling about talking loudly to their compatriots. There were small shouts of greetings thrown Logan’s way and the man smiled politely at them, walls coming up once more and making Anthony frown. Why couldn’t people just leave his brother alone?  
They sped up again as they reached the entrance to the town, Logan’s smile brightening from fake to real at the barren, red sand dunes, the scorching sun that left your skin feeling blistered and red even after all the layers you had put on. Anthony wasn’t too keen on it all, he definitely preferred the indoors to this, but seeing his brother smile, eyes finally unguarded and free was worth the sun burn and blisters any day. 

“I’ll set the cans up and then we’ll practice”, Logan said, slowing his horse so they could walk to a small patch of greenery, a tree stooping to the ground as the sunlight filtered through the large patches in its leaves and branches. Two birds cawed loudly as the brothers neared, three cans already sitting a small distance away on a stump. Logan slid off his horse and tied it to the tree, motioning for Anthony to do the same. The younger began to tie up his horse, fumbling a little as he tired while Logan walked to the cans and began to set them up. Anthony finished and watched his brother in the sun, he smiled as the older of the two pulled out his pistol and twirled it, grabbing the last can and setting it up on a rock. Anyone would be lucky to have is brother, Anthony mused as Logan turned back to him and offered him a smile. 

“What now?”, Anthony asked, looking the elder up and down, eyes straying to the pistol still by Logan’s side. 

“Now I teach you how to hold it, then I teach you how to shoot it”, Logan said, dropping his usual manner of speaking as excitement took a hold of him. He whipped out his other gun and held the grip out to his brother, hammer still in place so Anthony didn’t accidentally shoot him. 

“So, I hold it like this?”, Anthony asked, grabbing the firearm and smiling a little as the cool metal met his hot flesh, the grip and weight settling into his hands easily. 

“Perfect, now aim it at the can on the stump”, Logan said, holding his own out in the position he had been taught. Anthony copied his movements and took his aim, pulled back the hammer and almost jumped back when the small firearm went off, the bullet hitting the stump as his eyes widened in surprise. Logan smirked a little and aimed, landing his bullet in the centre of the can making it fall back with a small clatter. Anthony looked at it n wonder, eyes full of amazement and happiness. 

“That’s amazing. How can you do that?”, the boy asked and Logan chuckled a little. 

“Practice, Anthony. Now aim like this and don’t be afraid of the sounds or bullets. They can’t hurt you unless you’re on the other end of it”, Logan said, smirk large on his face as he ran a hand over his neck. Anthony nodded and pulled the hammer back again, and again and again. He practiced until all the bullets had been emptied and the cans had been knocked over. Logan smiled down at him, pride shining in his eyes as he walked back to the horses and grabbed some water from the saddlebag. 

Logan took a drink from the canteen and handed it to Anthony who drank deeply, making his brother laugh. 

“Slow down. You know, when Roman and I travel we don’t drink too much, too risky to not have enough water if one of us becomes overly dehydrated”, Logan said and Anthony slowed his drinking, pulling the canteen away from his lips and handing it back, wiping his mouth free of water and giving his brother an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry”, he said with a small grin and Logan ruffled his hair with a smile.   
“No need to be. You’ve never been on the road before…but now you know how to shoot, are you going to?”, Logan asked making Anthony look down at his feet. 

“Maybe…you always tell me how great the places you visit are…I’d like to see somewhere that isn’t here”, Anthony said with a small smile. 

“Why’d you want to learn how to shoot? And don’t say it was because you wanted to become an outlaw hunter, or spend time with me, or run away from your problems on the back of a horse. I know you, even if I haven’t been around much. I know there’s more to the story than what you’ve told me”, Logan said making Anthony swallow heavily. 

“Well…I really just wanted you to see how much fun it could be to…to have you back. I know you have a job to do and people need you, but…well, I need you too and I want you to stay”, Anthony said, not quite lying, not quite telling the truth. How could he tell Logan the truth? Especially when the truth would be so hard for him to hear.

“So, you want to become a hunter…or do you want to join Roman and myself on the road?”, Logan asked, raising an eyebrow in question. Anthony shimmied a little and bit his lip, chewing the flesh lightly. 

“What I want is…what I need is…I want to be with you all the time. You’re my brother and…I…I don’t want you to die out there with some outlaw scums bullet in your heart. I want to travel with you…and Roman too I guess. I want to be there with you fighting bad guys side by side”, Anthony said, determination shining in his brown eyes. Logan chuckled and turned his eyes to the cans, laying in the sun-drenched sand, matte metal glittering softly in the dunes. 

“Well, I will give it to you, you know what you want. But”, Logan began, turning his eyes back to his younger brother and giving the boy a soft, but firm look, “I will not be held responsible for your death. I would rather you stay where you cannot get hurt.”

“But…but you leave all the time! Why don’t I get a say in it? If you get a say in where I stay then shouldn’t I get a say in where you stay?”, Anthony yelled making the birds above stir and caw loudly, shuffling in the branches above the pair. Logan sighed softly, dropped to one knee and looked up at his brother with the kind of understanding only a loved one can show. 

“I’m older than you. I’ve more experience than you. That is why I can leave and you cannot. When you are older you will be able to go where you want, when you want. You can go as far as you want and with whoever you want. But as for right now, you are still too young for this. You need to learn and grow and show me maturity before I allow you to ride with Roman and myself. For now, I will teach you to shoot. Later in life I will teach you to kill if that is what you want. From there you will be as free as I am if no freer”, Logan said making Anthony stutter and rub his cheeks. 

“But, how long will it last?”, Anthony asked, turning his eyes to the ground and shoving a boot into the sand and dirt below, frowning as a small cloud of dust blew away from him. 

“How long will what last?”, Logan asked, standing up and turning back to his horse, pulling out two apples and handing one to Anthony. The boy took a bite and swallowed, wiping his chin to clear away the small droplets of juice that accumulated there. 

“Your freedom”, Anthony said simply and Logan tensed his grip on the apple faltering slightly, making it fall to the ground. The elder bent and scooped it up, dusting it off with shaking hands. “Father will have his way eventually”, Anthony stated softly and Logan nodded slowly, biting into his own apple as his gaze turned from the ground to the horizon. 

“I know. Eventually I will have to settle down. I don’t know when, but I will eventually”, Logan said and Anthony lifted his eyes to look at his brother, hunched over as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. 

“You can still pick them, right?”, Anthony said and Logan let a smile flitter across his face, disappearing in a second as he took another bite of the apple. 

“I can. But that’s not the point…when I eventually do have the farm, you will have a chance to be free. Enjoy that freedom, it comes at a cost”, Logan said and the pair fell into silence. Anthony let his gaze wander to the cans, then the horizon. The sun made the dunes gleam and glisten, heat causing the images to bend and shift. A soft thud in the sand shook the small boy out of his day dreams and back into reality. He glanced at his brother who kicked a small piled of dirt and sand over an apple core before grunting softly, taking a drink from his canteen and untying his horse. 

“Let’s head back to town. We can grab a drink at Patton’s before we head home”, Logan said as Anthony raced to finish his apple, doing the same motions his brother had done; drop the core to the ground, kick dirt and sand over it, take a drink, and untie his horse. Anthony nodded, his smile returning as he swung himself up onto his horse, taking off back to town with his older brother riding behind him. 

They entered town as the sun began to set, heading to Patton’s bar as quickly as they could to grab some water and conversation. Neither wanted to return home and face their father’s wrath, so they tied their horses and made their way in. Roman sat on a stool, half asleep with his head resting on his folded arms. Patton, being the ever-loyal friend and bartender, stood over him with a sympathetic yet amused expression. 

“Has he drunk himself stupid?”, Logan asked as he took a seat next to his friend, Anthony taking the seat next to Logan. 

“No, just lazy. Water?”, Patton asked and Logan gave the bartender a little nod and smile. The man grabbed two glasses and filled them, shoving them into the waiting hands and smiling as the brothers drank the water gratefully. “So, what are you two doing here? You never bring Anthony for a visit”, Patton said and Anthony gave the bartender a guilty smile. 

“I took him to the outskirts to teach him how to shoot”, Logan explained and Patton’s eyes lit up at the statement. 

“Really? I remember when you told me how you first learned. Didn’t someone from out of town teach you and Roman?”, Patton asked and Logan gave the man a curt nod, taking a drink as a show he didn’t want to talk about it. “What did you learn today?”, Patton asked the younger of the two, smiling and putting his head in his hands. Anthony’s face lit up and he began to rattle off how his day had gone. 

“You escaped another marriage meeting, didn’t you?”, a voice asked and Logan looked at his best friend, a smirk falling into place on the sleepy face. 

“Yes, but I’m sure father will try again”, Logan said and Roman nodded. 

“Ain’t that the truth”, he muttered, grabbing Logan’s glass and taking a swig of the water inside. 

“Hey, that’s mine. Patton would get you one if you asked”, Logan murmured softly and Roman blushed a little, pushing his head into the crook of his elbow as the aforementioned man turned to the two hunters and gave them a smile. 

“Anthony’s been telling me all about your little outing together today. So, tell me”, Patton began, leaning into close to the pair, “when are you going to teach me how to shoot? I have a bar that needs some security and no one in this town knows how to shoot someone, let alone hold a gun right.”

Roman let out a small squeak and Logan rolled his eyes before answering. “If you’re willing to close the bar for a day we can arrange a lesson.”

Patton smiled at the other bespectacled man and leaned back on the bar. “Sounds good. What do you say Roman?”

Roman let out another squeak and Logan sighed. “I think he’s alright with it. Anthony, let’s go home now.”

The younger smiled up at the elder before looking back at the two, waving with Logan as they exited the bar and untied their horses. Pulling themselves up, onto the beasts they began the trip back to their home. The way back was laced with silence between the two brothers, birds were quiet to match the mood. They reached their house quickly, dim, orange light shining through the windows signifying that their father was still awake. Logan felt his insides churn with nervousness as they pulled their horses into the stables, slid off and took off their saddles. With a heavy heart the elder set his saddle aside and walked inside, ready for the tongue-lashing he was sure to receive for running off with his younger brother. 

The door creaked open as Logan pushed on it gently, heavy boots thudding softly against the wood flooring. There was another creak and the door opened as Anthony entered the house, walking quickly to his brother’s side and moving with the elder of the two as he walked to the living room. The dim light shone out into the hallway, casting an eerie, orange glow over the wood, glass, and metal that lined the hallway in the form of picture frames and the dark chest of drawers. 

“Father”, Logan greeted as he entered the living room, eyes finding the man in the high-backed chair he was in last night. 

“Son”, his father greeted coldly, brown eyes finding Logan’s and chilling the man to the bone. 

“I’m sorry we left without asking you for permission, but if we require permission to leave I see you should require permission to find me a spouse”, Logan said, eyes narrowing a little as he walked over to his father. The old man let a smile cross his face briefly before he pushed himself out of the chair and gave his son a cold glare. 

“I will not be spoken to in such a tone. This is still my house and thus I have the power to out you at any second. Respect your elders or I will make you live somewhere else”, the old man said and Logan felt a sneer curling at the tips of his lips. 

“Then you won’t be able to make me marry. Kicking me out will only destroy your plan to have me wed. Keeping me here has its benefits doesn’t it”, Logan said, voice like ice as he stepped back and turned around, looking at the chest of drawers opposite him. 

“I can still make you marry, whether you like it or not. You may be a hunter, but no son of mine is going to get away with disrespecting his father”, the man said and Logan moved out of the way as a heavy book came down where he had once been standing. 

“Threatening and then attempting to harm me. You really have lost it”, Logan mumbled as the book was swiped at him once more. He continued to dodge the slow strikes at is form, making his own dodges slow to match his father’s strikes. Logan let a small smile fall into place as his father dropped the book and bent over, trying to catch his breath. “If you’re going to punish me like that, at least try to hit me”, the hunter said, sighing as he took a step back and out of the room. He turned on his heel and walked up the stairs, entering his room and slamming the door shut behind him, regretting it when he pictured his brother waking up to the slammed door. He sighed and pulled off his coat and guns, thinking a little before hiding them in his room should his father try to take them away. He dropped his boots to the ground and land on the bed softly, looking out his window at the twinkling stars and glimmering town lights. 

He wished he could just leave and take Anthony with him, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t put Anthony in a life or death situation like the ones he faced on a daily basis. He deserved more than that and when he was older, and more practiced in the art of using a firearm in battle. When that happened and Anthony was properly ready, he’d let him ride with Roman and himself. They’d go together away from this town. Away from Akers town and away from their father. 

 

Anthony growled softly on his bed, eyeing the small pistol in his hands. He’d saved up to get it and now here it was, the pistol that he’d use to defend his brother. Logan may be older and wiser, but he still needed Anthony. If Anthony had to stay here he’d protect his brother’s honour from within the town. He’d threaten anyone who tried to tie his brother down and keep him away from the life he deserved. 

Anthony felt a dark smile crawl onto his face as the first name surfaced in his mind, the first one he’d threaten. If Logan was going to be tied down he’d be the most likely candidate. Strong, sturdy, good income and somewhat wealthy. Thomas. The man made something in Anthony turn over and scream. Something about him made Anthony feel sick. Sick and angry. The man was kind, generous and young, but was he good enough for Logan? That remained to be seen. 

Anthony let the hammer pull back and he pushed it forwards again, playing with the small bit of metal as he thought of what he was going to say to Thomas tomorrow. He sneered in the darkness and stood, slipping the gun away and making sure it couldn’t be found by anyone. He’d be skinned alive if his father found out, even worse if he found out Anthony was threatening the single population into submission so Logan wouldn’t have to be tied down. 

A smile flittered over his face as the bed dipped under his weight, covers pulled up over his chest as he stared at the ceiling. He chuckled at the image of Logan finding what he was doing. His brother would either be furious or proud, Roman most likely would be proud while Patton would be wither excited or disappointed with his behaviour. Anthony’s eyes strayed to the gun’s hiding spot. He liked the two, he just hoped they never hurt his brother. 

 

Virgil growled lightly as sun streamed through the window of his boss’s office. The man let him stay there when he was completely drunk or just too beat to move. With a yawn, he cracked his back and rubbed at his eyes. There was a piece of paper on the desk, loopy cursive identifying a few towns he hadn’t hit yet. His mind strayed to the two that had shooed him away from Akers town. Logan Magenta and Roman Prince. Hunters, how he detested them. And yet…he was intrigued. If not by them then by his boss. Thomas rarely threatened him like he did two nights ago. Whatever he wanted to keep safe in Akers town must be pretty valuable. The outlaw had targeted his boss’s gold storages before and the most he had received was a slap on the wrist for the act. Akers town…now that was special…that housed something his boss thought was worth keeping safe. Keeping Virgil away from. 

Virgil picked up his hat and dusted it off, eyes lingering on the paper before he smirked, pulled the hat on and walked out of the room, door creaking closed behind him. 

“Joan”, he called out to the bartender making them look up at him with a curious expression. 

“Yeah”, the bartender asked. Virgil smirked and dropped a couple of coins on the bar, eyes wandering over to the door behind the barkeep. 

“I need some clothing”, the outlaw said and the bartender swallowed. 

 

“Perfect”, Virgil said as he pulled at the brown coat that obscured his shirt and torso. The clothing was lighter than anything he’d have picked, but it would do the trick. 

“Last thing”, the bartender said, handing the outlaw a hat. The hat, unlike his own, was made of brown leather and rough material. 

“Uh, no. I’m not giving up my hat”, the outlaw said viciously, pulling his hat down and glaring at the barkeep roll their eyes. 

“I’ll keep it out back for you. No one will touch your precious hat”, Joan said, reiterating their point by pushing the hat closer to Virgil, who backed away and glared at the material like it had offended him. 

“No way”, Virgil growled, pulling his hat down and turning on his heel to walk away. 

“Your hat is more recognisable than your clothes. It’ll be safe here”, Joan said lightly and Virgil stopped, looked at his hat, pulled it off and finally gave in, letting the barkeep take the hat and put it with the rest of his outlaw gear. 

“Fine, but if anyone else so much as touches it, I’m going to be having…words with them”, Virgil said and Joan nodded in understanding. 

“Just, try not to make a bloodbath out of my bar”, Joan said and Virgil nodded once as a reply. The man took his leave and made his way outside, receiving surprised looks from the other outlaws. 

“What? Never seen a man in costume before?”, Virgil asked sourly and the others turned back to their drinks, sipping the alcohol and making glances at the dark outlaw. Virgil huffed and walked out of the doors, making his way to Di and smirking when the horse tried to bite him. “Easy girl, it’s me. It’s Verge”, the man said softly and Di seemed to calm, though she remained on edge over the change in clothing. With a smirk, the outlaw grabbed the horse’s reigns and made his way to Akers town, slowing to admire the beauty of the sun on the sand. Red grains slipping down, tumbling over one another under Di’s hooves. 

Akers town came into view and Virgil smirked as the wooden sign pointed in the direction of the small town. How could you miss it though? The only place with decent drinks and a place to stay for miles around. With a chuckle, the outlaw entered the town, passing underneath the hanging wooden sign and into the town’s centre. The strip of shops and houses that lined the street just screamed little country town. Virgil smiled as he slowed Di to a trot and made his way over to the tiny bar, tying Di to the wooden railing and slipping inside through the doors. 

The bar was a mess of people. Drinking, gambling, talking and shouting out at one another. It was good to get away from it all for once. With a smirk, Virgil pulled out a stool, eying the bartender as he made his way over. 

“My names Patton, what can I get for you?”, the bartender asked and Virgil let himself fall into his old habits. 

“How’s a glass of whiskey sound?”, he asked and the man nodded, turning away to get a glass and bottle of whiskey. 

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”, Patton asked, eyes lingering on Virgil’s face as the man dropped a few coins on the bar. 

“How’d you figure that out?”, Virgil asked, voice gruff as he took a swig of the golden drink. He smiled as the burn came, that familiar alcohol burn. 

“Haven’t seen you around here before. That and you dress like you’re out to woo someone”, Patton said making Virgil cough his drink back into his glass. 

“I-I”, Virgil struggled for words as the bartender narrowed his eyes. 

“Did Lilac put you up to this? Logan is going to be off the market soon and if you’re only here for him I suggest you find someone new to conquer”, Patton said, voice icy and cold as he looked at the man. 

“I-I’m not here for Logan”, Virgil said, still coughing as the alcohol burned his throat.

“Good. Because I won’t let outsiders try to get Lilac farm”, Patton said softly, stooping down and taking Virgil’s empty glass, “another?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks. Who’s Logan and what’s Lilac farm?”, Virgil asked and Patton let out a huff of laughter. 

“Now, now. How’d you come here and not hear of Logan Lilac and his father’s farm?”, Patton asked in a disbelieving voice as he filled the glass back up and handed it to Virgil. 

“I just sort of…stumbled upon your town’s name and thought I’d have myself a gander of what this place has to offer”, Virgil said, nodding a little and taking a drink of the alcoholic beverage. 

“Logan Lilac is one of my best friends. He’s an outlaw hunter, goes by Logan Magenta, you might have heard of him”, Patton stopped as Virgil coughed some more, spitting out his whiskey and apologising as Patton’s face turned sour at the liquid being spilled. 

“Did you…did you say Logan Magenta?”, Virgil asked and Patton let out a happy hum of approval. 

“That’s what I just said. Logan Magenta, or Logan Lilac if you’re from here, is one of the best outlaw hunters I’ve ever seen, well apart from Roman, but he can be a little…arrogant sometimes”, Patton said with a small smile. Virgil nodded a little, having been told of the hunter’s prideful boasting wen an outlaw was caught. 

“And…Lilac?”, Virgil asked slowly, prompting the bartender to smile wider. 

“Lilac is Logan’s real last name, like Roman isn’t really Roman Prince, he’s actually Roman King. It’s really close, but not quite there”, Patton said with a smile, the smile dipping into lovesick territory. Virgil almost groaned at how obviously in love the bartender was. 

“Back to Logan. Tell me more about him. What’s the deal with him and you trying to shoo me away?”, Virgil asked, looking the bartender up and down as the smile faded into a sigh and the man stood properly. 

“Well, if you weren’t new you’d know. Logan’s father, Mr Lilac, owns a large piece of property, a farm. He’s looking to shackle Logan to the property via means of marriage so someone is there to take care of the farm. Logan’s a hunter though. He likes his life of freedom and hunting bad guys. He…he won’t give that up so easily”, Patton said, a small smile straining his lips as he thought of his friend’s fighter spirit. 

“I…uh…so you thought I was here to…to woo Logan so I could get his father’s property?”, Virgil asked, looking down at the bar and taking a sip of his whiskey, frowning as the burn came back harsher than before. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. People have been trying for a while now and…well…I don’t want Logan getting stepped on in the pursuit of greed”, Patton said with a sigh, picking up a glass and filling it with water as he took a long drink himself. 

“I…who else has tried?”, Virgil asked, before realising that the question wasn’t the best and letting out a winded chuckle. 

“Well, I don’t remember them all, but at the moment there’s someone trying or at least I hope he’s trying”, Patton said, looking towards the bar doors with a wistful sigh. 

“Who’s that?”, Virgil asked, grip on the glass tightening slightly. 

“His name’s Thomas. He comes and goes from Akers town. Travels a lot and brings back lots of income for the town. Real nice guy and I think he’d let Logan continue to be an outlaw hunter if they married”, Patton said, making Virgil’s breath halt in his throat. Thomas was trying to win over the son of a rich man. No wonder he didn’t want Virgil in Akers town, or anyone else for that matter. If there wasn’t enough gold, land was the next thing to go and Thomas seemed to want that land for something. 

“Do you know where I can find Thomas?”, Virgil asked. Patton gave him a cautious look.

“Why would I tell you that?”

“He’s a friend. Is his last name Saderson?”

“It is. You know each other.”

“He told me about this place. Thought I’d come visit him.”

“Well, his house is the large one on the top of the hill. White, picket fence, can’t miss it”, Patton said with a smile. Virgil let his eyes soften a little and he ducked his head, dropping some coins onto the bar and taking his leave. “Hey”, Patton called and Virgil looked back, heart thundering against his ribs. “You paid too much. Take these back”, Patton said, chucking some of Virgil’s coins back at him, making the man fumble with the metal. 

“Uh, thank you”, Virgil said softly, finding it unbelievable that a bartender had given him back some of his money. 

“You’re welcome. Welcome to Akers town”, Patton said, greeting the other as he left the bar. Virgil dropped the coins back into the small sack and looked over at Di. There was a boy brushing his horse’s mane, brush and comb in hand, humming as he did. 

“Hey”, Virgil said softly and the boy looked up, flashing him a smile before going back to combing through Di’s mane. “What’re you doing, kid?”, Virgil asked, looking the boy over. 

“Brushing this horse. It’s filthy and needs some care. Do you know whose horse it is?”, the boy asked, not looking up from his work. 

“Uh, she’s mine”, Virgil said, looking at the boy as he pushed the brush over the mare’s flank. 

“Does she have a name, mister?”, the boy asked and Virgil nodded a little. 

“Her name’s Di. What’s your name?”, Virgil asked and the boy looked back, brown eyes shining. 

“So, you’re new. That explains it. My names Anthony, Anthony Lilac”, Anthony said and Virgil let a smile slip onto his face. 

“Verge, nice to meet you Anthony”, Virgil said before a voice called out and Anthony looked up as a horse was pulled up next to Virgil’s. A man dropped down on the other side and tied his horse, walking around and running a hand through Anthony’s hair as the boy looked up at him in awe. 

“Anthony, taking care of the horses again?”, the man said and Anthony nodded smiling up at the man. 

“Yeah, oh…this is Di and her owner Verge”, the young boy said and the man’s bespectacled face lifted to look at Virgil, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Nice to meet you, Verge. I’m Logan, Logan Lilac.”


	3. Deception and Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil chats with Thomas. Patton chats with Virgil. Roman threatens Virgil. The usual stuff.

“Logan Lilac”, Virgil mouthed, letting his hand graze his lips as he walked over the top of the hill and looked around in a daze. The hunter that had once haunted his nightmares now had a face and it was…he hated to admit the man was handsome in some regard. It was a wonder the hunter hadn’t settled down yet, but, the outlaw supposed, then Thomas wouldn’t have a chance to grab some land. Virgil narrowed his eyes as his mind was drawn out of the haze by thoughts of his boss. Thomas’ house loomed over the town from the hill, like the man he was. Picturesque, yet deadly. The white two-story house loomed over the town like death, blocking out some of the sun. 

Virgil growled and pushed the gate open, taking a few steps in before looking back and over at another white giant. This one had some style however and the sign on the gate had tiny lilacs painted on it. Virgil presumed that must be Logan and Anthony’s house, he let out a low whistle as he surveyed the land and stables. Patton wasn’t wrong, it was big. The land stretched out far behind the house, a corral taking up almost an entire field, golden strands of wheat shining in the sun in another field. They must be rich, if not then they didn’t know what they were doing with a farm that size. 

Virgil’s eye landed on the house. Another two-story house with cream curtains in the windows. Small rose bushes cut back, reaching high towards the sky, their red and pink sun-drenched faces open for the world to see. Virgil huffed a smile out and let his eyes wander to the only room where the curtains were open and someone was sitting in. His eyes caught brown and red, eyes widening as he looked at his boss talking to an old man, Mr. Lilac probably. 

So, Virgil thought, Thomas is out for the land after all. Maybe it was time to stir up the pot a little, make it just that little harder for his boss to get that land. With a smirk Virgil turned back to Thomas’ house and walked to the door, picking the lock easily and slipping inside to the smell of roses and mint. It disgusted him. Roses and mint, who was Thomas trying to impress…oh, right. Was it worth it? To have his house smell like a garden in his best effort to impress a man that seemed unimpressable. Did Thomas even know Logan was Logan Magenta? Of course, he did. Didn’t he? Or was he more concerned about the farm? He’d never seen Magenta, at least not that Virgil had heard of. 

Virgil pushed the door closed as thoughts swam through his mind, bouncing around his skull. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the secrets, or really the fact that his boss was most likely only trying to get land out of marrying the Lilac boy. 

Virgil eyed a few trinkets on one of the chests of drawers in the hallway, with practiced fingers he picked up a small porcelain figure. It’d be so easy to break this, to show his boss he knew and could tear the man’s plans apart as easily as breaking the figurine, but something about the figurine caught his eye. Maybe it was the tiny glasses painted on its face or the brown mop that sat atop the porcelain skull, the figure seemed unbreakable. Virgil swallowed as another bespectacled figure came to mind, shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts. He set the figure down and picked up another item, a small fan made of silver and silk. A pricey item that was sure to win over more than one person for sure. Why would his boss require an item he would surely never use, unless…unless he was preparing to take it somewhere else and give it to another?

The thought made Virgil’s stomach churn and a sneer upturn his lips. He set the fan down and walked quickly to the kitchen, checking the cupboards for food and scavenging something edible. It wasn’t much; dry bread and water that made him feel soberer than he already was. The respite was over quickly and he continued his search, moving up the stairs and into the second of the stories. 

The second was much the same as the first. A couple of rooms, covered in sheets of white cloth and dust, and a single bedroom, also covered in dust. Virgil searched the room from top to bottom and upon finding nothing of interest, made his way back down the stairs. His boots heavy on the wood, creaking planks echoing through the empty white house. He found himself in the living room, opposite to that of the Lilac’s. Small, yet warm it felt realistic, but Virgil knew better. It was a front. A mask. Like perfume on a corpse, it was just there to mask the owner’s true identity. 

Thomas Saderson, what a man. To want something enough to mask everything he loved with everything he despised. It made Virgil chuckle as he let his body drop into one of the high backed chairs his boss seemed so fond of. He tilted his head around the back to look at the window, eyeing the other house through the lace and curtains. There was no doubt in his mind that Thomas had seen a figure in his house and would most likely be trying to excuse himself without upsetting the owner of the property. How Virgil loved to be the one with the world in his hand. 

There was a thud and someone opening the door. Virgil’s mind raced as a smirk fixed on his face. What would he say to his boss? What would be the best way to threaten the man that had made his life a living hell? Which position should he take on the chair? Where would be the best viewing point to see Thomas sweat and cry out on his knees? Virgil’s smirk turned deadly as footsteps echoed in the hallway, moving quickly to the living room. Virgil counted down in his head. Three, two, one, and…

“What are you doing here?”, Thomas spat and Virgil turned his head from the window to his boss, face dark with mal intent. 

“Why Thomas, what a surprise”, Virgil said, eyes narrowing under his hat. 

“Why are you here?”, Thomas asked his tone like cyanide and venom, “I told you to stay away from here.”

“Well, I thought I’d come and visit you. What’s wrong, not happy to see me?”, Virgil asked, fake innocence dripping like honey from his lips.

“No, I’m not happy to see you. Just tell me why you’re here and leave”, Thomas spat, folding his arms and inching ever so slightly to a chest of drawers to his left. Virgil almost sighed, why had he been so afraid of this man, he clearly couldn’t mask his body language for all the gold in the world. Without even checking Virgil now knew there was a weapon in the chest of drawers; a gun or knife, most likely a gun. 

“Simple, I just decided to come back and see what you were up to. Now I know and now I have blackmail and leverage”, Virgil said, smile burning Thomas like acid on his skin. 

“Oh, really? And if I yelled out right now, do you really think you have enough evidence to have them take me away?”, Thomas asked and Virgil’s smirk widened. 

“Maybe not to convict you, but that’s not what I want. You can have your fun here, it’s not my business, what is my business is your business with me”, Virgil said, pushing himself up and clasping his hands behind his back. “What I want is for half of what I earn to be mine. I brave the dangers of the job; thus, I require I have half of the money I earn.”

“Fine. You can have more of the money you earn, but if this ever gets out I will drag you back here for these wolves to feast on”, Thomas said, growling lightly while Virgil just smirked and began to walk out of the room, patting Thomas shoulder as he passed his boss. 

“Pleasure doing business with you”, Virgil said, gently tipping his hat off his head with one hand. “And I know you have a gun in there, so don’t even try it.”

Thomas stopped moving and Virgil chuckled lightly as his boss stiffened, movements ceasing. With a little salute, the outlaw stepped out of the room, walking down the hallway with a bit more confidence than he had previously. He stepped around the door and slammed it shut behind him, a smirk present on his ever pale face. With a small chuckle, he looked around and stopped as brown eyes met brown eyes. Virgil stared into Logan’s eyes and felt his heart stop. 

“You’re chipper”, Logan said with a smile and Virgil had to do a double take on the hunter. He’d met the man before in costume, but he’d only ever seen the man’s face blank or angry. Seeing him happy was…refreshing. 

“I have a lot to be ‘chipper’ about”, Virgil said with a growl, face dropping back into its usual frown. Logan nodded his head a little as Virgil neared the gate, opening it and stepping out in front of the outlaw. 

“Virgil, if I remember correctly”, Logan said and Virgil gave him a nod, eyes leaving the ground and taking to look at the small town below them. “You seem, unsettled by being here. Is there a reason you came?”, Logan asked, stepping back to accommodate Virgil stepping off Thomas’ property. 

“I just came to visit an old friend”, Virgil said, stepping away from Logan and towards the town. “I’m done here, you’ll probably never see me again.”

“I wouldn’t say that”, Logan said and for a split second, Virgil swore his heart stopped, dread filling him as his mind raced. Had Logan figure out who he was? “People who come here usually come back”, Logan said and Virgil almost breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Well, yes. Your town is quite lovely”, Virgil said, turning back to Logan and wincing at how sunny Logan’s smile was. He felt like he was tricking the man into something terrible. He was a hunter, yes, but this man had been nothing if not hospitable to him since his arrival. All of these people had and Virgil for the first time in his life felt guilt. The sort of guilt you’d feel after you betrayed your best friend or stole from your parents. It felt wrong to lie to him, but he had to. If Logan found out who he was…

“Tell me, how long do you plan on staying?”, Logan asked, pushing his glasses up and giving Virgil a piercing stare. 

“I was only going to stay until I had finished my business, but perhaps I will stay a little longer”, Virgil said with a small smile, feeling his spirits lift despite himself. 

“Wonderful. I will see you tomorrow. Good night to you, Virgil”, Logan said and Virgil only then realized how dark it had gotten. The sun was casting a glow on the road below their feet while the moon moved in on the sky, stars beginning to twinkle in the soon to be abyss. Logan turned on his heel and walked through the Lilac gate, leaving the outlaw to work out how long they’d been standing there. Surely, he’d only left Thomas’ house in the past couple of minutes, and yet it was noon when he had entered the house. 

With a blank stare, the outlaw began his journey back to the bar. He passed the houses one by one until he came to the center of the town, that lovely little strip of shops and houses that reminded him of his home town. The one that had been burned to the ground, that is. He’d had a few ‘home towns’ and many of them had been burned as a consequence of him residing in them for too long. People seemed to have a knack for finding his hiding spots. 

Patton was still in the bar when he entered, along with a figure he hoped he’d never meet face to face. Roman Prince, or Roman King as he was known here. He was drinking a clear liquid, most likely water, and chatting up the bartender who seemed as oblivious to the hunter’s affections as the hunters were to Virgil’s true identity, something he hoped would not be revealed soon. Patton looked up at him when he entered, making sure to give the newcomer a smile before he grabbed a glass and filled it with whiskey, taking his attention off the loud man, something that seemed to cause the man to sulk in his arm. 

“Hey there, kiddo. Talk with Saderson, did ya?”, Patton asked, voice full of energy and happiness. Virgil gave him a nod and slid into the seat next to Roman, giving the man a small smile before dropping some coins on the bar and talking a wig of whiskey from the glass Patton had handed him. The familiar burn calmed him a little as Roman turned his head to look at him, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the outlaw. 

“Do I know you?”, Roman asked, words a little slurred. Patton merely sighed and took the glass from Roman before the man could spill it. 

“I’m sorry about him, he’s a little drunk at present time. If you come back tomorrow he’ll be here”, Patton said making Virgil nod his head in understanding.

“Don’t worry, I’ve known much worse drunks than this guy”, Virgil said and Patton let out a breath of relief. 

“Thank you. He’s not normally like this”, Patton said with a sigh, grimacing as Roman began to doze off, small snores mixing with normal breathing. “He’s actually a pretty decent guy, once you get to know him.”

“Well…I, uh, I’ll be sticking around a little longer. This town…it’s nice. I like it here”, Virgil said making the bartender smile. 

“Thank you. We try and keep it nice for visitors, like yourself. Let me guess…you met Logan, didn’t you”, Patton said a wry smirk adorning his face as Virgil took a sip of his whiskey, seemingly avoiding answering the question. “Don’t worry. By this time next week, you’ll have forgotten all about him, most usually do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Virgil asked, putting his drink down and swallowing as Patton’s eyes twinkled mischievously. 

“Well, many people come to court him. He ignores them, then they leave and find a better life elsewhere”, Patton said, beginning to clean out Roman’s glass, glancing to the softly snoring man with a small smile on his face. “Once I thought that Lilac would try and marry Logan off to Roman, but neither is interested in the other. And I know for a fact that Roman would kill anyone who upset his partner; I’ve seen his rage towards drunkards who’ve come too close and it is scary. He’s like Cerberus, but instead of guarding the underworld he’s guarding the Lilac boys and Lilac property.”

Virgil swallowed heavily, for some reason the thought of Roman being like Cerberus, guarding the Lilac property and the males that resided there…it made fear run rampant through his system. He’d seen what the hunter could do and it brought a fresh layer of terror knowing how fierce Roman could be if Patton was to be believed. 

“What would he do if someone married Logan and hurt him?”, Virgil asked, an idea springing to his mind. Maybe he could get Roman to do his dirty work for him. 

“Oh…I’m not sure you want to find out”, Patton said, voice low and soft. Virgil felt a chill run down his spine, but he resisted the urge to shudder. Patton’s eyes were like ice on his skin, cutting through and blocking out everything else in the bar, even the obnoxious snoring of the man next to him and the warm tingling of the whiskey in his system. 

“Trust me. I’m not here to hurt him”, Virgil said and Patton nodded softly, eyes retaining their sharp edge, but face softening as his eyes wandered the room. 

“Oh, I know you won’t. But I guess we’ll wait and see, won’t we…outlaw”, Patton said softly and Virgil’s blood froze in his veins. How did Patton know?

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Virgil muttered and Patton’s posture relaxed as he set himself on the liquor cabinet behind him. 

“Oh, I think you know what I’m talking about. I won’t tell anyone else, but…if you hurt Logan or Roman I will make sure you get what’s coming to you”, Patton said, like it was the simplest thing in the world to understand. 

“I-I’m not an outlaw”, Virgil hissed softly, growling as Patton smiled at him. 

“It’s not my place to say what you are or who you are, but with the signals you’ve been giving, I think you and I both know you’re an outlaw. Don’t worry, I know you’ll be gone soon. I won’t tell anyone because one; you seem nice, and two; you haven’t tried anything yet. If you do I will tell people and who isn’t going to believe me”, Patton said, straightening and grabbing a glass next to him, filling it with water and taking a long drink, sighing as the cool liquid washed down his throat. “Better.”

“I…Please don’t tell anyone”, Virgil pleaded softly, taking a drink from his own glass, emptying the rest of the amber liquid from the container. Patton nodded softly. 

“Tell you what. I won’t tell Roman and Logan if you tell me what you wanted with Thomas. I may be a bartender, but I have some questions of my own”, Patton said and Virgil grimaced at the mention of his boss. 

“You want the whole truth? Thomas is my boss. I came here because he told me not to rob this place. When I found out he was courting Magenta…sorry, Lilac, I thought I’d use that as leverage to get what I wanted”, Virgil murmured and Patton gave him a small smirk, dropping off the cabinet and leaning in, hands on the bar as he waited for what was to come next.

“So?”

“I got what I wanted and Thomas isn’t going to be outed by me, for what he is”, Virgil said and Patton let his smirk widen. 

“And what is Thomas. You said he was your boss. What does that mean?”

“It means I give him my earnings. He gives me destinations I can rob.”

“So, was this a place he said to rob?”

“No, I thought I’d come here when I couldn’t get anything at another town further west of here.”

“And what happened when he found out you came here?”

“He threatened me. Told me not to come back here.”

“And you didn’t listen because you figured there was some reason and you could blackmail him with that reason.”

“Bingo”, Virgil said, letting his head fall back and pulling his hat off his head as he did. 

“Well…that’s quite the story”, Patton said, smirk still planted firmly on his lips. 

“It is. Pity, it’s no fairy tale”, Virgil growled, pushing his empty glass away from him and making Patton take the glass back. 

“Want another?”, Patton asked and Virgil shook his head, muttering softly about how he shouldn’t be here. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t be telling them about you. Just…be careful. You may think they’re oblivious to who you are, but more than likely they’re thinking about who you are right now, trying to work out if you’re a threat to the town. That’s all they really care about though…this town.”

Virgil nodded a little and glanced at Roman. The hunter snored softly and Virgil doubted he was thinking of who Virgil was while he was sleeping. With a small chuckled Virgil stood, Patton raising an eyebrow as the outlaw shifted suddenly. 

“I’d better be off then”, Virgil said, swaying a little as the alcohol began to take effect.

“You have somewhere to go tonight?”, Patton asked and Virgil, without thinking, shook his head and sighed softly. “Stay here. I’ll roll you out a bed once everyone leaves and you can sleep in the bar tonight.”

“N-no that’s fine. I don’t want to impose on you. I-I don’t have too much, but I think if t-there’s a h-hotel around here I-”

“There’s no hotel around here for miles, and you’re not going riding like you are. I insist you stay the night, Roman does more often than not so you won’t be alone”, Patton said with a smile. 

“I-I…I, uh…fine”, Virgil said, giving in and allowing his shoulders to slump as he sat back down at the bar. 

“Good boy. Now sit down, kiddo. If I know my patrons, and I do, we’re in for a bumpy night.”

 

Roman groaned and pushed his head up from the pool of saliva on the bar. He blinked heavy eyes and grimaced as he wiped his mouth and cheek off with his sleeve. The liquid leaving a wet feeling on his cheek. Disgusting. He sighed softly and forced his eyes to look around the room, light making his brown orbs hurt with the sudden intake. Wincing he forced them to open wider, taking in the bar. He must’ve fallen asleep at the bar. He groaned softly. Patton would be so disappointed in him. 

“Glad to see you’re awake”, a soft voice said and Roman pushed his head, craning his neck to look at the blurry figure behind the bar. Patton came into focus, light shining from behind him and making him look like even more of an angel. My angel, Roman thought sleepily as he pushed himself forward, giving the bartender a sleepy, lovesick gaze. 

“I think he’s still drunk”, someone muttered to his left and Roman startled to attention quickly. 

Virgil gave the man next to him a quizzical look, frowning at the sudden awareness the man portrayed. 

“Virgil, be nice”, Patton muttered and Virgil rolled his eyes, looking back at Roman, lifting an eyebrow as the man’s face turned to him. 

“Who’re you?”, Roman asked, squinting at Virgil, scrutinizing the man beside him. 

“A ballerina”, Virgil said face deadly serious, making Patton chuckle quietly behind his hand. 

“Really?”, Roman asked, eyes widening a little. 

“No, not really. I’m visiting your town, that’s all”, Virgil muttered and Roman narrowed his eyes as the man took a sip of a white liquid that Patton had sat down before him. “Thank you, Patton.”

“No problem”, Patton said as he grabbed a glass and filled it with the same liquid, setting it down in front of Roman and filling up another for himself. 

“A visit?”, Roman questioned, voice tense like a wire as he took his eyes off Virgil and directing them to the milk in front of him. “Not many people come for visits, so tell me…what makes you so special?”

“Huh?”, Virgil asked and Patton seemed to give the floor an exasperated sigh. 

“You heard me. What makes you so special? If you’re going to court Logan I want to know what makes you so different from everyone else that’s come and tired”, Roman said, swishing the milk around in his glass. 

“I’m not here for M- Lilac. I’m not here for Lilac”, Virgil said, eyes trailing on the bar as he hoped that Roman hadn’t picked up on the little slip of his tongue. 

“Really, now? So, what are you doing here, because no one comes to visit any of us except for Logan. So, if you are here for him, you better confess now or tell me your real reason for being here”, Roman said, hand gripping the glass tightly as he eyes slipped to Virgil. 

“I’m here for Thomas…was here. I’ve got what I wanted, now I’m heading home”, Virgil said and Roman made a sound of acknowledgment. 

“Did Thomas deflower someone in your town? Is that why you’re here?”, Roman asked, voice like ice as if he was searching for some reason to hurt the rich man. 

“No, sorry. As much as I’d like to give you a reason to hurt him, no. I just do business with him and we had to sort some things out”, Virgil said, making Roman deflate a little. 

“Argh, you’re no help”, Roman growled softly, running a gloved hand through his hair and sighing. 

“What was I supposed to be able to help you with?”, Virgil asked and Roman turned his attention back to Virgil, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well…I was hoping Thomas had done something that would show me he wasn’t right for Logan. Man gives me the shivers. He always feels so cold…too cold, like he’s made of ice”, Roman said with a sigh. 

“You have no idea”, Virgil muttered while Roman just leant back and groaned. 

“He’s not right for Logan. Why can’t his father just let him choose for once?”, Roman growled and Patton nodded in agreement. Virgil let out a small murmur of thanks before he stood, dropped some coins and began to make his way to the door. 

“Hey, Verge. Can I call you that?”, Patton yelled and Virgil turned around, looking back and giving the man a small nod of approval. “You left these behind”, Patton said, tossing Virgil’s money back at him. Virgil caught it, looked at it and let out a chuckle. 

“That’s for you. For putting up with me for the night”, Virgil said, tossing the small pieces of silver and gold back at the barkeeper. 

“I insisted you stay here the night. You don’t have to pay me. We’re friends now”, Patton said with a smile. Virgil gave the man a nod, tipping his hat a little while Roman seemed to have returned to sulking. The outlaw turned on his heel and began to move to the door when it opened and he came face to face with the topic of their earlier conversation. Logan stepped aside, giving Virgil a little nod and smile before he moved to his friends and slapped the back of Roman’s head. 

“You halfwit”, Logan muttered as he sat down, making the other hunter smile widely, Patton’s smile turning into a grin at the presence of the other bespectacled male. Virgil’s hand tightened into a fist as Roman said something, making the other two laugh a little. He wrinkled his nose and turned around, rubbing his cheek as he exited the bar to find his horse. 

Di stood where he had left here, somewhat disgruntled from being in the same spot all day and night, but happy to see him nonetheless. She snorted softly as he ran a hand over the short hair of her nose, fingers trailing up to the soft tuft of hair, running his gloved hand through her mane before letting it settle on the saddle. He rubbed his face with his other hand and smiled at the mare, taking his time to walk to her side, untired reigns in his hand. He threw them over her head and pushed himself up, steadying the mare with hushed words before turning his head to the hill. His gaze narrowed on the white house, so innocently standing atop the dusty red track. He almost spat at how disgusted he was. How could his boss stand to live there, surrounded by people so innocent and naïve to the rest of the world? How could he stand to live here, deceiving them as he sat in his high-backed chairs sipping his fancy alcohol and smirking at their lives, as infinitesimal as ants. 

Was it wrong to want his boss to be exposed to this town? Probably not, at least then the man would get out of Virgil’s hair and he’d be free to rob and go where he pleased. Sure, he wasn’t the best person, but these people…these people needed more than just those two hunters to protect them. They needed Virgil, didn’t they? They needed someone with influence and someone on the inside to protect them from the dangers of other outlaws. The hunters would leave, but if Virgil said this place was off limits they’d stay away. They’d stay away because he was Virgil Hunterson and no one messed with Virgil Hunterson…well, no one but the hunters that is. 

So, with a smirk to the house on the hill, Virgil set off to the outskirts of the town. He needed to speak to Joan and make sure the others knew this town was under his protection. Di neighed and he raced off, dust clouding his exit from the town center. 

 

Logan was on his feet the instant Roman went for a clingy hug. Stumbling back a little and into someone’s chest, arms wrapping around his own in attempt to steady him and stop his descent to the ground. 

“I’m flattered you’d fall for me, but I didn’t mean it quite this literally”, a voice said in a joking tone and Logan looked up at Thomas’ smiling face. A smile slipped onto his own lips as he steadied himself in Thomas’ grip, making sure he didn’t hurt the other man as he tried to stand by himself. Pulling himself to stand, the hunter felt his legs wobble with the adrenaline, Thomas instantly tightening his grip as they give out beneath him. 

“Th-thank you”, Logan stuttered, trying to pull himself up with the side of the bar. 

“Not a problem”, Thomas said with a small smirk, finally releasing the hunter from his grip. His gaze wandered to Roman and Patton, smirk turning into a slightly nervous smile as he looked at the pair. The hunter had a wary look on his face, eyes narrowed and looking down at him from his seat, making the man feel small in comparison. The bartender was still cleaning a glass, his eyes wide and friendly, but Thomas didn’t trust the man for a moment, he could see the suspicious glint in the man’s eyes. He looked at Logan and almost sighed in relief. While the other two were suspicious and wary of his intentions the bespectacled hunter seemed more than welcoming as to his being there and helping him. It was refreshing not to have to do too much work to get what he wanted. He just hoped the hunter wouldn’t give him too much of a fight when it came to the marriage. Slow and steady wins the race, they always said and in this case the old axiom never rung so true.


	4. Understanding That You'll Never Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil heads off to rob a town, but his journey takes him to Talyn's bar where he meets a stranger who he follows back to Akers town. Logan has a hard time understanding a phrase and Virgil's following of the stranger subsequently allows him to help Logan and Roman out when the scholarly hunter passes out in the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time writing this, especially towards the end with the whole Roman and Logan in the bar debacle. That was kind of hard to write dialogue for so my excuse for such poor dialogue is, uh, it's my story? Okay if that doesn't please you then try this...I will do better, or attempt to at least, in coming chapters. And yes, I'm hating myself for giving them all such bland and uninspired surnames.
> 
> More on task with a little good news; I'd really like to thank those of you who have been commenting on the story or have given me kudos once you've read it. This is basically a shout out to you so (in no particular order), thank you to FrickinGwaine, generalofthefangirlarmy, queenofpranking, HermyTheSkrub, Addiesickin, and the 6 guests who left kudos. Thank you all for keeping me writing this.
> 
> So, without further ado, onto the story

“So, explain to me why you wanted to go to a small town in the middle of nowhere in full peasant costume”, Joan asked the outlaw as he entered the small bar and looked up at the barkeep. 

“Well, let’s just say…I have blackmail”, Virgil grunted as he slid into his seat at the bar and Joan sent a drink his way. Joan smirked and raised an eyebrow. 

“Should I be asking for who or where you got it from”, the bartender asked, eyeing Virgil up before leaning back onto the empty cabinets behind them. The wood creaked under their weight, not used to having someone on them after so many years of use. 

“Neither, but I’ll give you a clue if you give me back my gear”, Virgil said with a smirk, downing his drink and standing. 

“Fine. That’s the best I’ll get out of you, isn’t it”, Joan asked and Virgil sent a wicked smirk their way. 

“Yep. Now, clothes”, Virgil said, standing and walking to the end of the bar with a sly smile. 

“Outback, you know where they are”, Joan said with a smile, stepping forward to take the glass Virgil had left, cleaning it to the best of their ability and setting it under the bar for later use. 

Virgil ducked his head as he walked through the doorway to the back of the bar, smirk present as he took in his usual outfit laid out in a neat pile. His hat laid atop the bundle, sitting there so innocently you’d never expect it to belong to an outlaw, a criminal, but it did. Dark brown leather with scratch marks adorning the sun-scorched material. His prized possession he held close to his heart. A gift from a friend long gone, probably dead by now if they were lucky. Most people were lucky if they were dead…or rich. Dead or rich were the best places to be right now, but dead was definitely better than rich. 

Virgil stripped of the common clothing sighing as a cool breeze blew through under the door. He shivered lightly and pulled on his shirt and pants, dropping his boots on the ground and pulling them on. He twirled his guns and slid them into the holsters, he tied his bandanna around his neck and smirked. He grabbed his hat and coat as he walked out of the door, the wood closing this a small bang making people look up in surprise. Virgil smirked and pulled on his coat with a flourish, hat sitting proudly on his head as he nodded once at Joan and walked out of the establishment. He needed money and if he wasn’t going to hit Akers town, he’d need Di to be at her best for the trek to the next closest outlaw bar. 

Di neighed softly as he came out, bandana raising slightly as a hot wind blew dust and sand across the arid, smooth plains. The sun beat down with a vengeance and Virgil chuckled lightly as Di raised her head, making small excited movements as he neared. He ran a hand over her mane and flank, keeping close to her side before he pulled her reigns free and pulled himself up. Di stood and waited, steadying a little as Virgil’s weight settled onto her back. Virgil felt his smirk grow, the leather of the reigns heavy in his hands. 

“We’re heading for Johnsville”, Virgil said firmly, kicking the horse into a trot and moving her around with the reigns. He knew his way to the small township. The path was a little worse for wear, but he’d made the journey many times and the only outlaw bar from there to Joan’s was Talyn’s, and Talyn had some mean whiskey for a reasonable price. Talyn was one of those people that would give you a drink for less than it was actually worth, but end up with more money in their pockets because of it. They were smart like that and Virgil respected Talyn’s ability and talent with their business. 

Di snorted and Virgil let a frown grow on his face as the wind began to grow. If it got too bad he’d have to travel back to Joan’s and they’d be a little more hesitant to let Virgil stay due to the fact the outlaw had very little money left. He could make Di canter the entire way, but that’d wear her out quickly and Virgil didn’t need a sick or tired horse to take care of, even if it was Di. Not that he didn’t love his only true companion it was just that he didn’t want the extra anxiety and nervousness that came with having an ill companion. 

So, he closed his eyes and listened to the wind blow across the flat, sun-scorched area. He listened and waited and then he kicked Di’s sides, breathed in and let the horse gallop. He didn’t want to, but he needed to get to Talyn’s and he could always take care of Di. His companion would be on the top of his list and he knew the barkeep wouldn’t keep him from tending to the tired animal. 

Sand beat up behind them, wind whipping it around in small, dense clouds as Di cantered towards the bar. It was only a few miles away and that was better than traveling east to the other closest bar. Talyn’s would be much better anyway, Virgil reasoned as he and Di sped towards the small bar. He could see the hill shaped like a skull and internally smiled, knowing that he was only a hill and a trot away from the bar. Virgil tensed as Di slowed to a walk, breathing heavily as she kept on track to Talyn’s bar. 

He shouldn’t have worried though. The bar came into sight quickly and Virgil hopped off Di, pulling her along so she didn’t have to carry him. The horse seemed a little grateful to be carrying less weight. They stopped at the bar and Virgil tied the horse to the porch railing, sighing lightly as she took a deep drink from the bathtub filled halfway with clear water. Virgil shook the dust off his coat, brushing the heavy leather off along with his boots before he entered the relatively quiet bar. 

It reminded him of Patton’s back in Akers town with its high roof, light atmosphere and fairly clean tables. The bar was barely full, a couple of people here and there but other than that it was empty. Talyn smirked from the bar, giving the outlaw a nod as they poured him a drink. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you again for another month or so. What happened?”, Talyn asked, setting the glass down as Virgil took his hat off, pushing is coat away as he took a seat. He pulled down his bandanna and grasped the glass around the rim, raising it slightly and swishing the clear, orange liquid around inside. He took a sniff of the drink and sighed a little as the smell burnt his throat. He took a drink and sat back on the stool lazily swishing the remainder of the whiskey around in its glass. 

“Didn’t think I’d be back here so soon either. But I need a payday and this place is closest to Johnsville”, Virgil said with a small growl, smirking a little as his body moved forward, elbows coming to rest on the wood of the bar, shoulders slumping in relaxation. He didn’t mind this place. It never got rowdy since it was so far away. The drinks were good, service too, and Talyn was always willing to put up with his stupid stunts. 

“Johnsville’s in a bit of a slump right now. I’d suggest Rockwell, there’s a surge in salt and Rockwell had a huge monopoly on the market”, Talyn said, lips twitching up into a slightly mocking smirk. They sighed contentedly and looked out of the window. “Looks like Di took a beating out there. Want to borrow James?”, Virgil gave Talyn a gracious nod, thankful for the offer. 

“I’ll pay you when I get back. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two”, Virgil said, groaning as he went to stand. 

“Stay. You can pay me tomorrow. I’ll let you use a room upstairs for free, looks like you need it”, Talyn said, eyebrow-raising slightly they eyed the larger than normal bags under Virgil’s eyes. 

“I’m fine, Tal. I’ll be back before you know it”, Virgil growled, standing a little before Talyn gave him a glare, making him sit down and cower a little under her gaze. 

“You’re staying the night. No questions. Now, head upstairs and get some rest before I drug you”, Talyn warned and Virgil nodded, heading up the stairs quickly. He pushed the door open to the rooms upstairs and almost sighed at the welcoming sight. 

Oak doors lined the hallway, a red and green carpet following the wood-paneled walls down to the end. Virgil grimaced as the wood underneath creaked, but kept on course to his usual room. He stopped in front of the oak door and twisted the brass handle, smirking lightly when the door opened and he was greeted by a dark room. 

His room was the usual room. Four poster oak bed decked with white sheets, a red duvet, and a mattress. Pillows lay at the head; white and red mixing together in some cases as his vision blurred a little. He closed the door and took in the rest of the room. Window covered in red curtains, an oak cabinet on the opposite wall to the bed, empty oak bookcase on the wall beside the door and a small oak desk, with a chair, sitting innocently next to the cabinet. The room wasn’t large, but it was more lavish than sleeping in Thomas’ office in a chair. 

Virgil pulled his coat off and dropped his hat onto the desk, coat falling heavily to the floor at the feet of the chair. With a sigh Virgil sat on the bed, pulled his boots off and dropped them to the floor, wincing as something below banged loudly. He flopped down onto the bed and grinned in the darkness. He’d wake up tomorrow, grab a drink and head off with Talyn’s horse. Hold up Rockwell and make some money. 

His morning didn’t exactly go as planned. He woke up close to sunset and decided he’d just do the job tomorrow or the next day. So, instead of getting out and going to make some money, Virgil took the decidedly better road and pulled on his clothes, making sure his pistols were with him before he took a step outside the door and into the cold embrace of the chilled air outside his room. It wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting; sure, at night the temperatures got fairly low, but not to this standard. It was a little refreshing, but he ultimately decided he despised the sudden coldness of the long corridor. 

He walked briskly to the door at the very end, making sure to steer clear of a few stray paintings and busted pieces of wood. Something must have happened last night, probably a brawl. Virgil snorted at the idea, not finding the fact he hadn’t been woken by whatever had happened, appealing in the least. It was a little more than unnerving as he usually was quite the light sleeper, having had to use that particular trick on his travels, not all outlaws took too kindly to his being around. 

Virgil pulled his bandanna up a little, fiddling with the fabric as he opened the door, moving onto the platform and closing it softly behind him. He pushed a hand into one of his coat pockets and let his shoulders slump, posture drooping a little as he walked down the bar’s stairs. His boots made a little ruckus on the way down, but he was used to the loud sounds they made and didn’t make any attempt to quieten them. He jumped off the stairs as he neared the last two, casting a smirk at the floor before looking up at the barkeep. Talyn gave him an exasperated look, before shaking their head and rolling their eyes at Virgil’s entrance. 

“I could have come down guns blazing, you know”, Virgil muttered as he slipped into his usual seat and grabbed the glass the barkeep had handed him. 

“And you could have come down like a normal person”, Talyn said, admonishing the outlaw lightly with a small hit landing square on his bicep. 

“Oh please, I’m anything but normal”, Virgil said and Talyn just rolled their eyes making their way down the bar to another waiting customer. 

“Oh, I entirely agree with that”, the customer said and Virgil looked over at the brown, leather-clad figure. 

“And what would you know about it?”, Virgil sneered, taking a sip of his alcohol and swishing the rest around in his glass. 

“Well, since we’ve met I’ve really only thought of you as normal, but now…now I can see you’re anything but normal”, the customer said and Virgil felt an uneasy sensation creep through his bones. He knew that voice, that smirk that glowed in the dark bar like the moon in the night sky. It sent a chill down his spine, made his hair stand on end and caused his grip to loosen on the glass of whiskey, sending it bumping into the bar and spilling a little of the liquid. “I think you’ve spilled your drink”, the stranger said, standing and dropping a few coins onto the bar as he made a swift retreat out into the desert. Virgil stayed in his place still a little shell-shocked as his mind tried to find anyone he’d only met once or twice that made his body react the way it did just then. 

The voice didn’t ring any bells so, in a moment of stupidity, Virgil jumped from his seat and ran to the doors, flinging them open as Talyn yelled small insults in the background. He stopped as a horse neighed and dust blew around him, he shielded his face. The outlaw growled softly and grit his teeth, forcing his eyes to part a little only to catch a glimpse of shining glass, onyx rims and a smirk with a radiance to rival the suns. Then the figure was gone and with him Virgil’s hopes for figuring out who he was. But honestly, when did Virgil ever give up…don’t answer that. 

He ran inside, grabbed his hat and coat, said a quick farewell to a distressed and cross-looking Talyn and was out the door again in record time. Virgil grinned as he slipped into Talyn’s personal barn, grabbing the barkeep’s horse and causing the steed to bray as he saddled the horse. James seemed a little uneasy, but Virgil would soon fix that as he pulled the reigns and jumped to position, smirking a little as the horse reared up. Virgil kicked James into a gallop and tried his best to find tracks as he stopped the steed in front of the bar. He ignored Talyn’s yells for him to return James to them as he finally found what he was looking for. Horse tracks led away from the bar, hasty and slowly being whisked away by the wind. Virgil kicked James into gear and sped off, following the tracks away from the bar in into the wilderness. 

 

Logan chuckled a little as he dropped his hat onto Patton’s bar, his face brighter after his trip out of town. He loved home but feeling the wind in his hair, the sand landing hard against his bandanna, the sun beating down on his weary body. It was the closest thing he had in his life to freedom and he’d die before he gave it up. He patted his coat down and looked over at Patton, pulling down his bandanna and taking his hat off, dropping it onto the bar with his bandanna and a few coins. 

“You look happy. What happened kiddo?”, Patton asked as he set a glass of water down by Logan’s hands, the man taking the glass and draining it of liquid quickly, smile on his face as he swished the glass to and fro, rim clutched softly in his fingertips. 

“Had a good ride to Rockwell, that’s all”, Logan said, secretive smile on his face as he waited for Patton to ask more. All he got was Patton leaning in closer, putting his hands on his face and elbows resting on bar as he listened to Logan with baited breath. 

“Tell me everything”, Patton said in a light, high voice, poorly mimicking one of the female groups that crowded the bar close to the night, talking of spouses and love interests and such. 

“Well…you remember that man, the one who came here out of nowhere”, Logan asked and Patton gave him a small nod. Logan continued with a small smile. “He’s an outlaw. Virgil Hunterson, to be precise.” Patton’s smile waned a little, but he pushed his glasses up and nodded a little. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I…well…I guess I may have…observed a little and picked up on some things, but don’t worry he’s not out to hurt the town. He was here on business and he probably won’t come back if he’s all the way out at Rockwell”, Patton said, trying to defend himself as Logan’s small smile turned into a frown. 

“How could I not have noticed? I had an outlaw right in front of me and I didn’t realize”, Logan muttered softly, running a hand through his hair and messing with the dark strands. Patton looked around as Logan let his head drop to the bar with a soft thud. 

“Hey, buddy. Come on. Stop that. I just…you didn’t know and…yeah you should have been more guarded and all of that, but he’s not that bad, really”, Patton insisted and Logan raised his head a little to give Patton a piercing, unbelieving gaze. “Not what you wanted to hear?”

“No, but thank you for the honesty. I just can’t believe I didn’t recognize him. I…I see his face in my sleep every night along with all the other outlaws I have to hunt down and yet…he evaded me, made me believe he was just another common traveler. What else did I miss? Who…who else could be part of this-this circle, this cage, this entrapping lie that I fell into like a fly in honey”, Logan said softly, breaking off as he tried hard not to let his emotions overwhelm him. He was definitely disappointed in himself, angry and self-loathing to be sure, but he didn’t want to take it out on the poor barkeeper. 

“Lo, kiddo, you didn’t know and…and as for other liars…we’ll help you. Roman and I will help you with whatever you need”, Patton said softly reaching out and grasping one of Logan’s feverish hands. Logan seemed to calm at the contact, becoming a little more stable as Patton rubbed soothing circles into the flesh of his palm. “It’ll be alright, buddy. You and Ro can always count on me.”

“Good to know, Patton. Good to know”, Logan said hoarsely as he let his head drop to the bar again, breathing returning to normal as he began to reciprocate the attention his hand was receiving. 

“And what might this be?”, a loud voice asked and Logan slumped down further. He hoped to anyone that was listening that Roman of all people hadn’t figured out that the Verge that had visited them was the same as Virgil Hunterson. He didn’t feel like beating himself up even more if Roman had figured it out before he had. Patton had been bad enough, but now…now he wished and prayed and hoped that his partner was less intuitive than he let on. 

“Good afternoon to you Roman”, Patton said cheerfully, a light pink dusting his cheeks as the man gave him a wink and took a seat next to his partner. 

“You’re looking well Patton. May I ask…how did you get so fine?”, Roman asked, attempting to flirt and failing miserably when Patton simply laughed at the line and walked off to get Roman a glass of water. Roman sighed heavily and looked over at Logan, head still attached to the bar with self-loathing. Roman looked his partner up and down before kicking the bespectacled man lightly, boot meeting black clothed shin. Logan grunted softly and Roman raised an eyebrow as the unresponsive behavior. “And what’s with you? If you keep up like this you’ll have a permeant wood imprint in your skin.”

“No, I won’t because that is scientifically unsound”, Logan muttered and Roman smirked a little. At least Logan was able to come back with some sort of reply, even if it wasn’t the one he was looking for. He stretched and sighed softly as his joints popped, body relaxing even though his nerves were still tingling. Logan was never this out of it, so something was definitely wrong. He wanted to ask what, but he worried that Logan would clam up again like he had previous times when similar situations arose. But Roman was going to be a good friend, even if Logan killed him for it afterward. 

“So…what’s bothering you?”, Roman asked, voice hesitant. He waited for a reply, face turning so he could look at Logan out of his peripheral vision. The other was asleep, cheek pressed against the bar, small snores escaping parted lips while his back rose and fell with the intake of breath. Roman chuckled at how peaceful his partner was; like an ocean finally rid of a storm. An ocean on which Roman was a fisherman in his boat, waiting it out with bated breath until the storm stopped and the sea finally calmed to a peaceful standstill. 

“He’s so cute like this”, a voice whispered and Roman almost jumped, head spinning around to look at Patton, who stood, smiling, back against the wall, watching the two in silent admiration. 

“Yes…yes, I suppose he is”, Roman said with a smile of his own, feeling a little hurt that Patton thought of Logan as ‘cute’.

“But…I think I prefer my spouse to be a little livelier, a little more my pace”, Patton whispered and Roman felt his lips pull from a smile into a smirk. 

“Someone like…me, then?”, Roman asked sitting back on the stool so his back was against the bar, hand coming up to cup his chin as he turned his face back to give Patton a playful wink. 

“Exactly”, Patton said, laughing a little as a blush dusted his cheeks in rose tones. Roman seemed to sputter a little and Patton leaned back into the cabinets as they fell into silence, Logan’s breathing the only noise between them. 

“Would you…would you like to maybe…I don’t know…go up the hill for a picnic sometime?”, Roman asked and Patton nodded softly moving forward with quiet steps. Roman turned his body around and the two chuckled quietly, faces inches away. Patton pulled a stool out from under the bar on his side and sat down, smiling at Roman’s stupidly wide grin. “My place, four…no, five o’clock. That should give you enough time to close down the bar for a bit or find a replacement.”

“You’ve really thought this all out, haven’t you”, Patton whispered and Roman gave him a breathtaking smile when the smile dimmed Patton flashed one at Roman that had the other gasping for breath as he forgot for a second how to breathe. 

“I…you deserve the best”, Roman breathed and Patton giggled lightly making the hunter’s stomach flip. 

“Well…you do too”, Patton said and Roman moved a little closer as the words came out in a soft whisper. 

“Not more than you do”, Roman said and the two locked eyes. Brown met brown and the world was lost to them. Roman’s eyes shifted from Patton’s eyes to his lips for a second as they began to close the distance between them. They were breathing each other’s exhalations in seconds and Patton could practically taste the water he had just served Roman. Patton’s eyes closed softly as Roman’s did and Roman’s hand gripped one of Patton’s softly. They’d been waiting for this moment since they first met and now it was coming into fruition. 

“Roman”, a voice said and Roman jolted from his daydream, sighing softly as his fingers grazed his cold, dry lips. It felt so real and yet…yet he’d never get there. 

“Yes?”, Roman asked as he turned to face Patton once more. 

“Sorry, you just drifted and…sorry”, Patton apologized and Roman waved a hand. 

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine for going back to the clouds again.”

“What was it about this time?”, Patton asked and Roman blushed, face turning away from Patton so his whole body was facing the rest of the bar. 

“Nothing important”, Roman said with a sad sigh, rubbing his chin with one hand and making a face as Patton’s hand hit his arm. 

“It’s important if you think it is. Want to talk about it?”, Patton asked and Roman bit the inside of his cheek. If he feigned ignorance now he’d surely be doomed, but he could always lie. He hated lying to Patton, but lying was better than rejection in his opinion.

“Clouds. Clouds and flying. I had wings and I was soaring above the clouds. Beautiful, white, fluffy clouds and brown feathery wings as long as my arm. I felt so light, Patton. I would reach a hand down and touch the clouds. They were like smoke, but cold smoke that retained its shape. It was…amazing”, Roman said, breathing a small sigh as Patton’s face turned wistful. He knew Patton loved the idea of flying, heck if Roman could trade his gun and right arm for wings for the bartender he would, but the world didn’t work like that, so he had to put up with this. With telling the man lies and stories.

He had always had a knack for storytelling and it was often his weapon of choice against the nightmares that he conjured up for himself. That was the drawback though, an over creative mind could come up with good and bad, and sometimes the bad outweighed the good. 

Someone came in through the door and took a seat on Logan’s side near the end of the bar. Black clothing adorning their form as they waited for Patton. They seemed content to just sit there until the bartender came around and for that Roman was thankful. 

“I have a customer waiting. When I get back could you tell me more?”, Patton asked the customer yelled for the bartender to grab them a drink. Patton gabbed a glass, called out he was coming and set off, giving Roman an apologetic smile as the hunter turned around. Roman lifted his lips into a fake smile, giving Patton’s back a little salute as the man rushed away down to the other customer. 

“And I thought my love life was bad”, a voice said, making Roman jump a little before realizing who had spoken. Logan lifted his head and gave Roman a sleepy smile, eyes drooping a little from behind his glasses. 

“Shut up”, Roman muttered, with a small smirk, punching Logan’s arm softly as the other’s eyes closed, a small wry smile on his lips. Logan propped his head up with one hand giving Roman a knowing smirk as the other hunter craned his head to look at Patton around Logan. Logan glanced behind him, eyes still lazily opening and closing as he looked from Patton’s serving form to Roman’s lovesick one. He opened his mouth and in the drunkest, sleepy voice Roman had ever heard his friend use said.

“You, my friend, need to get laid.”

Roman sputtered, blushed and looked at Logan with wide eyes. His mouth swung open and he gaped at the sleepy bespectacled hunter with a look of shock and horror. The feelings quickly faded and were replaced with curiosity and a twinge of concern. 

“Where did you hear that? Do you even know what that means?”, Roman asked, voice quick and worried as his eyes glanced over his friend, hand coming to rest near the other hunter’s elbow. 

“Heard it at an outlaw bar. Don’t know what it means, but it’s supposed to be helpful”, Logan said, face slipping a little off his hand a small, lopsided, tired smile adorning his face. He quickly pushed his face back into his hand and tried hard to look as awake as possible, failing miserably as he let out a small yawn that was undeniably adorable to even Roman. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, Roman muttered in the way a mother would over their child saying a swear and not understanding what they had said, which was indeed what had happened. 

“What? What’d I say?”, Logan asked and Roman shushed him gently making the man frown before he sighed and put his head on the bar again. “You’re not going to tell me what it means, are you?”

“No, and if anyone ever does I’ll shoot them full of holes”, Roman grunted as he took a casual sip from his glass, tilting his head back, not noticing how Patton looked over and gave the hunter a glance over. 

“What’s so bad about getting laid?”, Logan asked and Roman rolled his eyes. 

“Stop saying that”, Roman growled. 

“Saying what?”

“Stop saying things about getting laid. It’s something you shouldn’t know about…at least not yet.”

“Roman”, Logan began, sitting up straighter and giving the hunter a bored, unimpressed look that only he could muster in such a tired state. “I’m twenty-eight. Whatever it is you’re hiding from me that I will ‘find out eventually’ I probably should have found out a long time ago. You can’t defend me or protect me forever, princey.”

“Oh, on the contrary. I will make sure you never find out what that means…until you’re married of course or dead. I might just wait until you die and then whisper it to your corpse”, Roman said with a chuckle making the hunter at his side pout and frown. 

“That’s not fair Roman”, Logan said petulantly as he bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I think it’s quite fair”, Roman said, taking another sip as Logan turned his head away from his friend and closed his eyes, from still firmly planted on his face. 

“What’s not fair?”, Patton asked, taking a few more steps towards his friends as he cleaned out a glass, sitting it in front of Logan who began to sleepily play with its rim. Patton chuckled a little and sat down on the bar stool on his side, looking between the two hunters as someone came in through the door. The four people in the bar didn’t look up as a man entered, panting, taking a seat on the other side of the three. He took out a small hip flask and draining the thing dry before slouching in his seat. 

“Nothing”, Roman replied but groaned as Logan also replied, his words slightly slurred. 

“He won’t tell me what getting laid means”, Logan said and the results from the surrounding bar members were immediate. Patton’s eyes widened while Roman quickly tried to scold him, the man at the end chocking a little and the other customer to Logan’s far left letting out a chuckle before their head dropped onto the bar and they fell asleep. Patton looked from Logan to the customer, then to the man, then to Roman before giving Roman a disbelieving look that said, ‘Are you kidding me? He doesn’t know what that means? Have you not even explained to him what that means? Why haven’t you told him?’. To which Roman gave him a look that said, ‘Please don’t tell him. I would die of embarrassment if he knew the meaning. He’d tease me all the way to Sunday if he knew I was squeamish about that topic.’

“Logan, honey”, Patton said gently, putting a hand on Logan’s as the hunter’s head made contact with the bar once more, one hand under his head, the other playing with the glass while Patton’s hand sat on top of it. “We don’t want to…scar you but…”

“For heaven’s sake, Pat. I’m twenty-eight for crying out loud. What does it mean?”, Logan asked and Patton flushed a little at the forcefulness of Logan’s question. 

“W-well…uh…you make a good point”, Patton said as his eyes darted to Roman, pleading for an escape. 

“Well, you see Logan…uh…when a couple of people love each other very much”, Roman began, cut off by laughing to his right from the man with the hip flask. Roman flushed, embarrassed and angry that the man had interrupted. 

“Ro, I know what you’re talking about. What does falling in love have to do with getting laid?”, Logan asked and the man to Roman’s right laughed harder, clasping his stomach as he almost fell back with howls of laughter. 

“Do you want to explain it?”, Roman bit out angrily, looking at the man with a glare while the man steadied himself with the bar. 

“No…no…keep going”, the man said breathlessly, trying to stifle his laughter from behind his hand.

“Argh, this is getting me nowhere. I’m going back to sleep”, Logan muttered, falling asleep promptly after the soft declaration. Roman sighed heavily and looked up at Patton who also sighed. The two exchanged a look of relief and nodded to one another before Roman stood, pushed his glass to Patton and pulled Logan back, gripping the man gently under his arms as he fell back off the stool and to the floor. Roman caught him and pulled him up, situating himself in front of the other hunter so as to give him a piggy-back up the hill. 

“You sure you can carry him all that way?”, Patton asked, gesturing with his head to the hill out the window. 

“If I can tame a wild horse, go two days without water, sit for fourteen hours on a horse for five days straight, and shoot a bullet a bullseye in target fifteen feet away on zero hours sleep after riding for two days straight, I can carry Logan back to his house and bed no problem”, Roman said, seemingly happier after listing off his accomplishments. 

“Okay, if you say so Mr. Hotshot”, Patton said jokingly, a small smile on his face. There was silence in the bar apart from everyone’s breathing and the occasional hoot from an owl outside. 

“I’ll stay safe”, Roman said to the unspoken question giving Patton a small, reassuring smile as he adjusted his grip on Logan’s thighs and turned to walk out of the bar. 

“Okay”, Patton said, voice barely above a whisper as he looked down at the bar, picking at it with his nails. The man at the end of the bar stood and walked out after Roman, keeping the hunter within sight as he hopped on his horse and started after the two at a walking pace. 

Roman could hear the horse following him and he reached for his gun around Logan’s leg, mentally cursing the fact he’d never risk dropping Logan to shoot someone. He narrowed his eyes and turned around, gun drawn and trigger finger ready. His coat fluttered, settling as his gaze landed on the man on horseback. The man put his hands up a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“Easy. I just thought you’d be better off delivering your princess on horseback. It’d be easier if he were up here with me”, the man said and Roman kept his eyes narrowed, but he lowered his gun and gave the man a look over. Brown, leather gear covered him from head to toe apart from his shirt and pants. There were to gun holsters on him along with the shining flask. The bandanna around his neck screamed outlaw, but who was Roman to judge. With a sigh, Roman lowered his firearm and walked to the horse and rider. 

“Alright”, Roman said, conceding defeat and allowing the man to take hold of Logan, pulling the hunter’s unconscious body onto his horse. “But if you try anything I won’t even think of shooting you”, Roman spat out, firearm once again drawn as he cracked his neck, feeling a little freer now he no longer had an adult male pressing down on his back. The other male nodded, gently kicking his horse into a walk while Roman watched him, walking alongside the horse and towards the Lilac property. 

The walk was silent save for the chirping of crickets and the hoots of owls from the desert. The horse’s steps almost silent, the large creature moving slowly and softly as if it knew it had a slumbering passenger that its rider wanted to keep asleep. They reached the Lilac property and Roman helped the man lift Logan down from the horse. Roman muttered a thank you as he walked through the gate, spending minutes in the house before he came back out, shutting both door and gate behind him. He looked up at the other male, eyes drifting from Logan’s house to Thomas’. 

“Something wrong?”, Roman asked, giving the man a wary look. The man shook his head, turning his horse around and giving Roman a smirk. 

“Nothing you should be concerned about.”

“Thank you”, Roman said as the man began to move away, stopping his horse and looking back with a little surprise. 

“Sorry?”, the man asked. 

“I said, thank you. You…you really helped us out back there and I appreciate your generosity”, Roman said, tripping over his words. The rider opened his mouth a little sighing as he moved his tongue from his top left molars to his top right molars. Closing his eyes and letting his face drop to look at the saddle before looking back up, eyes till tightly shut. 

“Thank you…for trusting me”, the man said and Roman nodded curtly before beginning the trek back to his own house. The other man scratched his chin softly with one gloved hand before setting off into the night. Who knows if they’d ever meet again.


	5. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil meets his boss and finds himself in a pinch. Thomas faces Anthony who manages to scare him enough and the hunters take the youngest Lilac out to practice his shooting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back. It's been three days, I'm about to go on a break and I have no idea how long this is going to be. I also wouldn't expect a chapter this long for a while now, since this took me a week or two to do and I've only just started the sixth chapter, so...
> 
> But it's time to acknowledge some people, so thank you to CeCe, AceGirl and a guest who've been kind enough to comment/add a kudos to my work. And an extra thank you to FrickinGwaine who has continued to comment on my story. 
> 
> Without further ado, the labor of my love:

Virgil growled and messed with his hair as he straightened James back on the dusty track. The moon was rising steadily as his thoughts tumbled around in his skull, hurtling around like large, foaming waves crashing into the sharp rocks that tore ships asunder. The sand glittered like silver and diamonds under the dark sky, not bright enough for reflections but bright enough to stand out. James’ steps on the sand and dirt were slow, steady, consistent and soft all at the same time. The horse stumbled a little as the pair walked down a small hill and Virgil jolted awake at the sudden push forward, looking around as he tried to figure out how far he was from Joan’s bar. He hoped that Talyn hadn’t contacted Joan about him stealing their horse. 

The bar came into sight a few moments later and Virgil pulled James up to the water trough. Sliding off his horse, Virgil tied the stallion to the railing and tilted his hat back on his head as he entered through the doors. The talking was almost non-existent as the outlaw entered the run-down bar. He chuckled. Joan would have his head if they found out he had called their bar ‘run-down’. 

Virgil took his usual seat at the bar and waited for Joan to walk over and serve him. The bartender didn’t look at him as he walked in and seemed to ignore his presence as they talked to another customer. Something about the customer made a shiver run down Virgil’s back and the outlaw couldn’t help but feel at least a little worried as Joan finally stood up properly and looked at him. 

“Talyn’s here to take back their horse”, Joan said and Virgil groaned at Talyn’s face peeked out from under their hat, a small frown marring their lips. 

“Is James outside?”, Talyn asked and Virgil nodded, putting his forehead on the bar as Talyn stood, thanked Joan and walked outside. Joan made their way to Virgil and Virgil grunted into the bar when they asked if the outlaw wanted a drink. His hat slipped a little and Virgil pushed it up on his head, sliding a hand under his chin as the wood of the bar began to dig into his skin. The bar smelled like cigar smoke and alcohol, with a hint of wood. The stairs creaked and Virgil looked up into his boss’s eyes. Cold, dark and murderous the oak brown pools swirled with anger and unease. Virgil directed his attention away from Thomas and at the drink that had been placed down in front of his face. With a sigh, the outlaw downed the contents, stood, took his hat off and walked to the stairs where Saderson stood, eyes burning with a cold light as he waited for Virgil to near him. Virgil stopped at the foot of the stairs and heard Thomas grunt, turning and disappearing up the rest and into his office. Virgil followed, uncertain of what to do once he entered the office. Thomas wouldn’t kill him for blackmailing him…would he?

Thomas footsteps stopped and Virgil walked up the stairs, taking his time to count his breaths out, he didn’t need to seem so anxious and fearful in the face of adversity. He wondered if hunters ever felt like this…if Logan ever felt like this. Virgil swallowed. Since when did he think about his enemies? Since when did he think about Logan, with his perfect brown hair and his…no, stop. Enemies, sound it out. En…em…ies. That’s what they were, what they’d always be. Always the bad guy, never the hero. 

“Come in, Verge”, Thomas called out as Virgil stood outside his door, thoughts of the two hunters long gone as fear replaced the happy thoughts. Virgil twisted the brass doorknob and walked through the white, painted doorway, the chipped door closing softly behind him. Thomas sat in his usual spot, the chair behind the desk making him look even more imposing and powerful than the last time they had spoken, it may also be the fact that the only light that was keeping the room lit was from the moon behind Thomas. Beams of silver and white lighting up the back of the chair and causing Thomas to be enveloped in darkness. “Sit”, Thomas said, motioning with his left hand for Virgil to take a seat in his usual chair, hands coming back together and tenting, fingertips pressing together as he waited for the outlaw to sit down. 

Virgil took a seat and swallowed, waiting for Thomas to speak again. There was silence until Thomas brought out a flat wick oil lamp, lighting it up in seconds and letting the orange glow illuminate his face, shadows dancing across cold features as he sat back. 

“You wanted to see me”, Virgil said and Thomas entertained a smirk, form relaxing into his chair as he let his hands drop to the desk. 

“I did”, Thomas said, nodding lightly at the idea. 

“What about?”, Virgil asked, trying to appear composed and unafraid, even if he felt neither and was very strongly feeling the opposite of both. 

“I wanted to see your progress. How much money have you collected since we last spoke…in Akers town?”, Thomas asked, form moving forward as he bit out the last portion of his question. He seemed furious now and Virgil felt the fear and anxiety creep into his stomach, sitting heavy like a ton of rocks in his system. He bit his lip and tried to think of an answer, anything would be better than silence. 

“I’ve been doing well for myself since then. I actually found someone worth looking out for, which reminds me…how is Logan doing?”, Virgil asked, voice like ice as he tried to seem unafraid. His words didn’t appear to have any effect on Thomas except making his right eye twitch, but his own words gave Virgil a much-needed boost of confidence. 

“Logan is doing well, though…you’d know wouldn’t you”, Thomas said making Virgil’s brows furrow as his eyes landed on the light. The orange flame danced to and fro, flickering and sputtering a little under the twin gazes it was receiving. They were silent apart from their breathing and the occasional hoot of an owl outside. 

“I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what? I know you like him and I know you like money. Don’t try and deflect from the situation, because I can bet you, you will fall for him without even realizing it”, Thomas said, voice dark as he leaned back and pulled out a coin, twirling it in his fingers as he looked at Virgil. His cold eyes pierced Virgil’s soul, the dark magnifying their terrifying power. 

“I’m not falling for Logan. I don’t…I don’t care what happens to him, but that town…they’re nice people”, Virgil said and Thomas hummed, nodding a little at Virgil’s words. 

“That they are”, Thomas said, a knife sharp smirk making his lips curve. His teeth shone like silver in the dark with their stark white color, straight edges, and perfect, flawless curves. It made Virgil sick. 

“You’re not going to hurt them, are you?”, Virgil asked, eyes fixing on Thomas’. The unspoken question hanging like a threat over Thomas’ head. 

“And you care about what happens to them, why?”, Thomas asked, coin stopping its rotation through his fingers as he closed his eyes. 

“Because they’re good people. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to good people”, Virgil said, trying to deflect Thomas from learning the truth that he kept even from himself. 

“Ah, well. No. I will not hurt them”, Thomas said and Virgil relaxed a little before Thomas opened his mouth again. “I cannot say the same about Logan and Roman though”, Thomas said with a small, dark chuckle. Virgil bit his lip and glared at the man before him. How dare he threaten Logan…and Roman, of course. Logan and Roman. 

“They may be hunters, but they’re still good people”, Virgil growled and Thomas chuckled at the aggressiveness Virgil held in his voice. 

“That’s the problem though. They’re hunters. Logan doesn’t want to settle down and I can only charm him into staying so much. I think a little trip to the doctors may be in his future”, Thomas said and Virgil stood up abruptly, eyes blazing with anger that made Thomas smirk turn into a Cheshire-like grin. 

“What do you mean?”, Virgil spat out, words venomous. 

“I mean he can’t be a hunter if his arms are broken…or his legs. And he definitely can’t be a hunter if he’s dead”, Thomas said. Virgil paled more than he thought possible, swallowed and glared at his boss. 

“You’re going to marry him and kill him?”, Virgil asked voice low and eyes narrowed as his fire-filled eyes looked into his boss. 

“No, because I still have to get him to marry me. No, no, no, my boy. First, I injure him to keep him in town, then I go in for the kill”, Thomas said, entertaining a deadly smirk on his lips. “And it’s not as if you have any say in this. You don’t even like him. He’s your enemy…unless.”

“I…he might be my enemy but that…he…you can’t do that to him”, Virgil growled, mind racing with things he could do to tell the eldest Lilac, warn him of Thomas true nature and intentions. 

“You shouldn’t care. He’s just a wall I have to knock down to get to the other side and if he’s off the streets, you’ll have an easier time getting what you want. Won’t you?”, Thomas asked, his words cutting deep into Virgil’s heart with the truthfulness of them. 

“Uh…I…I…”, Virgil was left speechless as he sunk into the chair, the words fully sinking in. If he…if he let Thomas do this Logan would be off the roads, away from him and his robberies. He’d be able to do his job in peace, but…at what cost. Then again…why did he care? Logan was his enemy, he was supposed to hate this man, keywords being supposed to. So, why didn’t he? Why did he want Logan to be happy, or was it just that he wanted Thomas out of Akers town? That seemed far more likely and definitely made more sense. 

“Virgil”, Thomas said and Virgil’s head snapped up to look at him. 

“Yes, sir?”, Virgil asked and Thomas nodded at the reinstating of the title, knowing smirk planted firmly in place happy with the knowledge he had beaten Virgil in the conversation. 

“Tell me. Why did you return to Akers town after you attempted to blackmail me?”  
Virgil gave Thomas a wary look and glanced at his tented hands, sitting still in his lap. He frowned and looked back up at his boss, trying to think of what he should say. 

“I…I was on my way to another town and saw someone familiar. I followed them back to Akers town by accident”, Virgil said and Thomas nodded, eyes still planted firmly on Virgil like they could look into his soul. 

“Don’t let it happen again”, Thomas said with a small grunt as he stood, grabbing his hat off the desk and fixing it on his head as he glanced out of the dark window, the moon shining brightly through the glass. He reached over and turned the lamp off, causing the room to fall into darkness. Virgil sat there stunned, looking at his boss’s shadow clad figure as he walked to the door, gripping the handle and twisting it. Light streamed into the room, illuminating the outlaw and his boss with a cold glow. “Stay here for the night. You’ll have a bit of a way to go to get to Rockwell and don’t think ‘Di’ is fully rested yet.” 

Virgil felt the blood drain from his face as the door closed, light cutting off and leaving him in darkness once more. How did Thomas know where he’d been going? They hadn’t seen each other for at least three days, if not longer. How would Thomas know he was headed to Rockwell? How could Thomas…he knew. He knew he’d been back to Akers town. He knew…so did he…did he know Virgil had helped Logan and Roman? Did he know…did he know Logan had been out of town? Virgil jumped out of his seat and stumbled to the door, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it until the door opened, light spearing through his mind, making him shield his eyes out of pain. He blinked and searched the bar with blurry eyes. Thomas was gone and with Virgil’s luck, he was on his way back to Akers town. Virgil groaned and sunk to his knees at the top of the stairs, drawing a few concerned looks. Fantastic. 

 

Anthony watched the night sky as the stars twinkled like diamonds in the inky abyss. Beautiful and so far away from his grasp. Like his brother. He sighed and pushed off the small ledge under his window, dusting off his pants and walking over the creaky floorboards to his small bed. He took a seat on the mattress, listening to the springs and metal creak as much as the floorboards, if not more. Pushing his body back into the mattress with his feet he lay down, rolling onto this side to look out of the window. He glared as the stars twinkled innocently above the vast sands, the river of their property trickling quietly some ways off, reflecting the lights above it with the envy the moon had for the sun. Anthony blinked and looked at the end of his bed, looking around in the dark from the glint of the dark metal he had bought to help his efforts. The pistol shone dully in the dark gloom of his room, making him sigh at the familiar sight. 

A thud made him jolt slightly and he pushed himself deeper into the mess of sheets and blankets on his bed. Another thud accompanied by a grunt and the opening of a door. Anthony looked from his door to the window. Why was his brother up so late? He’d seen Roman come in carrying the other hunter’s sleeping body, but his brother shouldn’t be up this late, or early. So, why was he? 

Anthony turned on the mattress and pushed his legs off, swinging them lightly in the air as he sat up and pushed off the bed, landing quietly on the creaky floorboards. With practiced skills, Anthony moved silently to his door, opening the creaky wooden object with cautions hands. He listened to footsteps on the stairs and peeked his head out as his brother’s shadowed figure clambered off the last stair and into the kitchen, a sigh reverberating through the still air.   
With silent steps Anthony walked down the flight of stairs, peeking around to make sure his brother didn’t know he was awake. He stopped when a shadowed figure exited the kitchen, walking into the living room with a small growl. Anthony grabbed the banister and hauled himself onto the wood, pushing his body to the other side and clambering down the side of the stairwell. He landed on the floor with a small, barely noticeable thud and made his way to the kitchen, slipping in behind the door as he heard his brother move to the kitchen once more. There was a sigh and the sound of liquid filling a glass, another sigh and a glass being set on the wooden bench by the back door. 

Brown eyes danced with curiosity as Logan moved to and fro in the kitchen, grabbing some bread and sawing off a chunk. The elder brother began to eat, small nibbles on the bread as he walked out of the kitchen again, turning up the stairs and taking the banister in hand. The stairs creaked under his weight, soft steps moving further and further away from the younger brother. A door at the top squeaked open and closed as Anthony walked out of the kitchen, smirking a little as the world outside the kitchen window began to lighten as the sun began to rise, turning the river a sparkling white with its light. 

A horse neighed softly outside of the house and Anthony raced into the living room, staring out at the slowly waking world. A horse stopped, shoes clacking against the stones as it mouthed the bit between its lips. The rider dropped off his horse and the young boy’s eyes narrowed at the traveling salesman, Thomas’ figure grabbing his horse’s reins, tying him up and retreating into his house. He was finally back, now Anthony was smiling, now he had work to do. 

 

Thomas groaned as someone knocked on his front door, the sound echoing back to him and around his house. Who’d be up and knocking on his door at this time of…morning, it was morning. Thomas sighed as he looked out of his living room window, the twinkling light of dawn smearing the sky in pinks and oranges, purple and blue visible at the edges of the natural painting. He growled and got up from his chair, the red fabric and wood calling to him as he stood on his sore legs. He just wanted a break and to sit down before he had to go after the Lilac man again. Logan needed to be caught and soon, he was already losing the farm to King and Hunterson. That needed to end and the only way it would end would be if Roman was out of the picture and Virgil was unwilling to say anything. He could bribe his employee into not talking, but Roman would be harder…much harder to work with. 

Muttering to himself, Thomas walked down the small hallway and to the entrance of his house. He jiggled the door handle, murmured curses, put his best smile on and opened the door. Thomas looked around, smile still planted firmly on his face. He heard a cough and looked down a little surprised to see Logan’s younger brother at his door. Anthony looked up at the man boredly before opening his mouth. 

“Can I come in, sir?”, Anthony asked, biting back the bile that rose at the word ‘sir’. He gave the man a charming smile and Thomas nodded a little, opening his door and watching as Anthony walked in, a smile planted firmly on his lips as he clasped his hands behind his back. His pistol moved under his hands, cool metal meeting burning skin as he walked and smiled at Thomas. Thomas gave him a curious glance and took him to the living room, taking a seat and grimacing as the weight was lifted off his feet. He pushed his hands together as Anthony walked around the room, looking out the window as he passed it, smiling at his house across the road. “You certainly get quite the view of our house, don’t you?”

“I do. Now, please. Take a seat while I get you something to eat”, Thomas said, standing before he noticed Anthony’s narrowed eyes, staring out of his window. 

“Sit. I must speak with you”, Anthony said, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Thomas, while not sure how the boy had managed it, sat down urgently as if he were being threatened. A small smirk graced Anthony’s lips, twisting them upwards into a gut wrenching smile. 

“Yes, what have you to talk about?”, Thomas asked, feeling perspiration begin to form at the back of his neck. Why was he so terrified of this boy? What had this boy, this twelve-year-old boy, done to him that was so bad to warrant this?

“I would like to draw you away from the idea of marrying my elder brother. I have come, not to threaten you though I will if I must, but I have come to talk with you. Civilly, that is”, Anthony said and Thomas swallowed. How could this boy be so intimidating? The child…Logan’s younger brother…wanted to talk to him about his marriage to his brother, or soon to be marrige. 

“Yes. What of it?”, Thomas asked, trying to remain calm and collected as he flashed the boy a smile. 

“I would like to ask you to treat my brother well. Do not stop him from pursuing his dream. He want’s freedom and he will not have it if you are to marry him so soon. Give him some time or”, Anthony stopped, turning around. The sunlight filtered in behind him as he eyes, sharp and dark, narrowed at Thomas.

“Or?”, Thomas questioned, feeling his mouth grow dry. 

“Or you will not have any left”, Anthony spoke, drawing up to his full height, bowing and then leaving as the words sank in. The boy had threatened him…and it was scary. It almost made him want to defer from his plans, but Logan had to be dealt with and he wanted that land. He needed that land. 

 

Logan stirred from his sleep as light seeped through the crack in his curtains. He rolled over with a groan and blinked into his pillow with heavy eyes. He could feel sleep wanting to take over again, but his mind was already on high alert as a noise came from outside his door. He rolled over again as another creak of feet on wood sounded through the house, the creaking coming closer with little breaks in between like they were attempting to be stealthy about their inevitable approach. Logan’s doorknob turned and the door began to open as Logan sighed silently and closed his eyes, keeping his face neutral as the soft thudding he’d come to expect from his brother echoed in his room dully. A small hand traced his face lightly and he struggled to maintain the neutral façade until a heavyweight forced the air from his lungs and made him open his eyes in shock. Anthony just smirked down at his elder brother, hand running through the soft brown strands he’d come to love. Caressing them tenderly he giggled, pushed back a little as the larger of the two pushed up off the bed and gave him a smile. 

“And why are you so happy this morning?”, Logan inquired, scratching at his eyes and making the small specks of hard yellow fall from his eyes. He grimaced before looking at Anthony and taking in his younger brother, something was off about him but Logan couldn’t figure out what. 

“I was talking with father and he agreed to let you and I have a full day together, uninterrupted if you go out tomorrow and spend some time with Thomas”, Anthony said and Logan let his smile falter a little. He didn’t want to spend time with Thomas, but…Anthony looked so happy and Thomas had been nice to him so…so, he sighed and nodded giving his brother a smile as the little tyke hopped off the bed, racing out of Logan’s bedroom and down the stairs to share the news with his father. 

Logan began his daily routine, washing his face and feeling sleep fall off him in waves as the cool liquid called him out of his half-awake state. He glanced up at the small mirror installed in his room; dreary, dust covered frame and glass only intensifying his weary looking state. He eyed the reflective glass and metal before frowning and wiping a handover through the grime. Logan wiped his hand off on his pants with a grimace but smiled a little as his reflection peeked at him through the finger marks and layers of dust. The sunlight shone through the window, reflecting patchily off the mirror and onto the floor, little puddles of white light forming on the old oak planks. Logan rubbed his foot over one of the light puddles with a small smile. The light penetrated his sock, warming his foot a little as it moved in and out of the bright white spot. 

A knock on his door snapped him out of his sleep addled mind, causing him to look over at the wooden object as another knock sounded and his brother’s voice called out. Logan sighed and pulled on his coat, shrugging a little as the heavy leather settled onto his sturdy frame. He grabbed his boots, pulling them on and grasping the bedposts as he stumbled from the force of trying to put them on. Swallowing down a growl of displeasure, Logan grabbed his twin pistols and checked them for ammunition. Bullets glimmered in their places, sun shining off their glossy, metal casings. Logan smirked a little before it dropped and his door opened, Anthony sprinting in and grabbing his waist, wrapping his small arms around his brother’s hips and legs. Logan looked down at the boy and gently ruffled his brother’s hair as Anthony pulled Logan closer, closing his arms around him tighter as if he would disappear if let go. 

“Anthony…please release me. I have to get ready”, Logan chuckled. Anthony whined softly, but released his elder brother, albeit slightly begrudgingly, and took a seat on the older Lilac’s bed as he waited. Logan grabbed his hat and bandanna, pushing his pistols into their holsters. “Alright, grab some food and let’s saddle up.”

Anthony jumped off the bed with a yelp of delight and ran out of the room at top speed, feet thundering across the wooden planks as he reached the stairwell and sped down the steep incline of the stairs. Logan shook his head, a small smile plastered on his face as he walked out of his room and down the stairs, stopping once to look at a painted picture of their mother. He wondered if she’d be proud of him. Proud of her outlaw hunting, gun toting, leather wearing son. He wondered if she’d be proud of him even if he hadn’t settled down yet. 

“Come on Lo! I want to get the horses out”, Anthony called back at him and Logan looked down at his brother. He leaped over the banister halfway down the stairs and looked up at his father as he straightened. His father gave him a soft nod, before returning to his book, salt and pepper hair swaying softly at his head movements. Anthony jetted out of the house and to the stables. 

“We’ll be back by sundown”, Logan said and his father nodded, not looking up from his book as his eldest walked out of the back door with his youngest. Lilac closed his book and looked next to him at the small table decked with paintings and photographs. While knowledge and land were the Lilac family’s most powerful weapons, art was one of their most treasured. Specifically, the art of Lilac’s wife, long dead and gone. Logan didn’t know and Anthony didn’t know. That’s how it would stay. Anthony’s adoption a secret that the town would always be happy to keep, so long as the Lilac’s brought income into their little community. It wasn’t a vicious cycle and Lilac could always hold his own against the people of the town, but they were his children even if one of them was adopted, and that was just how it would stay. 

 

Logan laughed softly as Anthony fiddled with his horse’s reins, Roman talking loudly as he pulled his own horse to and fro. They had decided to take Roman along for the trip, mostly because the man would have thrown a fit had he known the Lilac boys had gone off to another town without him. Roman had insisted he come along and they didn’t have the hearts or courage to say no to him. After a while Roman had begun to talk about some of the journeys Logan and himself had taken, making sure to emphasize the details and glory of fighting. 

Dust and sand flew at Anthony’s covered nose and mouth, biting into his exposed skin. Logan had been kind enough to offer his brother his bandanna, allowing the boy to breathe without worry of sand or dust clogging up his lungs and making him cough up a storm. He’d tried to shield his eyes but realized all too soon that he couldn’t stop the sun from shining in his eyes. He slumped into his saddle and sighed as finally, Roman stopped talking. 

They traveled in silence for quite some time until Roman let out a low whistle and a town came into view over a hill. Little brown wood houses scorched black and white by a fire long gone. A black fence encased the town and a sign hung over it from two poles. Chipped and burnt it stood as if it were about to collapse. 

Logan let a small smile fall on his face at the sight of the old town. Crow Ridge. While it once housed about thirty people, now it held no one. The area had been burned to a crisp a decade or so back and no one had made Crow Ridge their home ever since. Legends told of a turf war between two rival outlaws that resulted in the fire being set, others told of ghosts that burned the town to a crisp out of rage. While it was unclear as to what the true motivation or reason for the conflagration, it was understood that no one wanted to know the real reason – myths and legends were far more entertaining than real events. 

Anthony shivered a little as they passed under the sign, horses slowing to a walk as they moved slowly down the center of the town. Houses and shops paved the way to a hill, a lone house sitting atop the small slope. A schoolhouse sat close by to it at the base of the hill while the town’s bar stood close to the entrance of the town. The fence reached out around all of it, collecting the small houses and shops, swooping around the back of the hill and reaching all the way back around to the entrance. 

“Why are we here?”, Anthony asked in a quiet voice and Logan turned his head to glance back at his younger brother. 

“Training”, he replied simply, turning his head back to look ahead of him at his outlaw hunting partner. The trio moved across the ashen ground, still grey and black spotted where the fire had scorched it. Little bits of ash jumped from the ground as their horses stirred it up, turning the sand and rock in their wake. Anthony looked down at the ground as seared wood and blackened rock was trampled by hooves that carried him. Wood broke apart and crackled to soot under hoof, the black dust stirred into the dust and dirt beneath them. They passed a shop and Anthony looked into the shell through the grime and soot-covered windows. Empty black and grey stared back at him. He shivered in the saddle and kicked his horse to move a little faster as his nerves and anxiety began to rise, fear crawing up his back and making his skin prickle in the hot sun. 

The group neared the hill and Roman turned his horse to the side, the steed and rider sinking out of sight behind the schoolhouse. Logan followed swiftly after, his mare carrying him behind the schoolhouse. Anthony kicked his steed into a faster walk, not wanting to be left behind in the eerily quiet, blackened town. He closed his eyes and opened them again, blinking at the world that lay before him now. A small, leafless tree stood off close to the fence, opposite to an old, metal windmill. The plates creaked as a soft breeze ran through their rusty blades. The ground held little to no grass and rocks dotted the area like gravel. Roman was already tying his horse to the black fence while Logan was tying his to the tree. Anthony followed their lead and hopped off his horse, taking the reins of the beast and going to tie the horse next to Logan’s. He looped his reins around the black fence and patted his horse’s flank softly before taking his leave and walking over to the two men. His brother gave him a soft smile while Roman gave him a smirk, taking out his pistol and aiming it at the windmill high above them. He pulled the trigger and Anthony held his hands over his ears as the bullet ricocheted off the metal blades causing them to turn. The contraption squeaked into life and Roman let his smirk widen as he turned to look at the other two. Logan rolled his eyes and looked back at Anthony who was frowning at Roman. 

“Let’s get down to business”, Roman said with a wolf-like grin, twirling his pistol while Logan handed Anthony his. “Hit the windmill, win a prize”, Roman said with a chuckle as Anthony stared the windmill down, pistol raised and tongue poking out. 

“Hey, breathe, okay?”, Logan said softly as he dropped down to the ground, knees bent so he could crouch next to his brother. Anthony took a deep breath in through his nose, eyes closing as he exhaled and the gun shook a little in his hands. Logan took one of his hands in his own and steadied them. Anthony pulled the trigger back and let the bullet fly past the windmill, missing one of the blades by mere inches. Anthony pouted and frowned at the windmill, pistol dropping to his side and he growled softly. “Hey, you did your best. You’ll get better the more you practice”, Logan said making Anthony look at him with a small smile. 

“I’ll get better the more I hit the target”, Anthony said and Roman chuckled. 

“You have a pistol, kid. Go wild. Try and hit the blades”, Roman said and Anthony raised the pistol again, this time with no shaking. He breathed and Logan stood, dusting his knees off and taking a step back as another bullet whizzed through the air. Roman tapped Logan’s shoulder and the two walked to the tree, watching the young Lilac try to hit the windmill’s blade. “He’s just like you when you were younger”, Roman said with a chuckle and Logan let a small smile grace his features. He punched Roman’s shoulder gently and sighed as his brother let another bullet fly and another. 

“He’s more like you or Patton” Logan muttered softly, eyes softening behind his black-rimmed glasses. 

“You say that, but he behaves exactly like you used to. He talked back to his elders and was upset when he didn’t get it right the first time. The little perfectionist is just like you”, Roman mumbled and Logan let out a small snort. 

“He is nothing like me. He’s much stronger and braver than I was when I was his age, and he’s so adamant about helping us protect others. He really does have a heart of gold”, Logan said and Roman nodded, looking at his partner and letting his eyes trail over the man beside him. There was a clang and Logan’s face turned from wistful to happy in a second. “I knew you could do it. Well done, Anthony.” Roman looked back to see the boy giving his brother a smile.

“Can I have some water, Lo?”, Anthony asked and Logan turned to fetch some of Anthony’s water. Roman looked back at Anthony to see the boy was no longer smiling, instead, he was giving the older man a deadly glare, full of warning and anger. Anthony walked up to Roman, twirling the pistol in his hand. “Don’t ever look at my brother like that again”, the small boy said with a glare and Roman looked at him in shock. 

“Everything alright, Ro?”, Logan asked as he walked back to the tree with Anthony’s canteen. 

“No. We’re fine. I was just asking Princey what the difference between your gun and his gun is”, Anthony asked, glare gone in an instant as Roman’s shocked expression faded into one of calm and happiness. 

“As I was saying, mine is a caliber or two higher than your brothers. He also uses lead instead of my bronze bullets”, Roman said while Logan handed Anthony his canteen. Anthony drank a little water before closing the canteen and handing it back to Logan’s waiting hand with a small thank you. Logan nodded and walked back to put it away. Roman looked down at Anthony with cold, icy eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, Logan’s a nice guy and easy on the eyes, but I would never do something with your brother. We’re just friends”, Roman said and Anthony nodded, accepting that answer with a somewhat disbelieving expression. The two shared a smile as Logan walked back, suspicion in his gaze as Anthony walked back to his former position and twirled the gun in his hand. Logan glanced at Roman who gave him a smile. 

“What did you say to him?”, Logan asked suspiciously, watching his partner with narrowed eyes. 

“Nothing. But you were right. He is like me”, Roman said with a smile as another clang echoed through Crow Ridge.


	6. The Best Remedy And My Worst Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Logan spend a day together, enjoying each others company. Thomas debates his plan and Patton heads off to confront Virgil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out to you guys, but here it is. This is the nest chapter and I'm wasted. Not like the drunk wasted, I'm just tired from trial exams and all that. Now onto honorable mentions; thank you to XxTearfulChildxX and the three guests who left kudos in the past couple of days. 
> 
> Also, if you have any ideas for summaries or chapter titles please do leave them in the comments and I'll change them as soon as I get notified. Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter. 
> 
> Okay, that's out of the way...adventure ho!

Thomas tossed his head back, fingers scraping through his hair as he raised his eyebrows. He needed to look his best for today if he were going to win over Logan. The man had been incredibly hard to find and increasingly hard to get a hold of. He’d not seen Logan around the town or in his house for a long time. His father, the elder Lilac, had assured him that today Logan would be his for the day and his alone. Checking his hair once more in the mirror he flashed his most dashing smile and grabbed his hat, putting it on as he exited the house. His eyes wandered over his untamed garden before an idea appeared in his mind. He raced inside and grabbed one of his books, surely one the scholarly hunter had not read and raced back out grabbing an arrangement of flowers and holding both gifts close to his chest. His gate squeaked loudly as he exited his property, sighing a little as he pushed it shut with his foot. Thomas pushed the Lilac gate open with his hand, tossing a smile at the window as a shadow passed across the front window. The man swallowed and took a few more steps towards the door as the wooden object opened, creaking and showing its use. 

“Thomas, my boy. How are you?”, the elder Lilac asked and Thomas nodded, stepping forwards and taking the old man’s outstretched hand. 

“Well, and you sir?”, Thomas asked giving the man a small smile as he shook the man’s hand. 

“Please, please, none of this sir business. Just call me David, or father, whichever you prefer”, David said and Thomas smiled at the old man’s casual demeanour. 

“You must call me Thomas then or son, I insist”, Thomas said and David grinned widely. 

“Okay then, son. Now, about my own son…Logan”, David called and Thomas brought out the flowers and book he had brought over, showing them to David and earning him a smile. 

“I thought Logan would appreciate these. Flowers, grown by my hand and one of my various books. I do not know if he already carries this particular book, but I assume he would enjoy it just the same”, Thomas said and David smiled, looking over the title of the book before nodding. 

“As far as I know he hasn’t read this one yet, so you’re on your way to earning his affections my boy”, David said before turning and looking behind him. “You must excuse my boy, he can take a while to get ready. Please, do come in and make yourself at home.”

“Thank you for your kindness and hospitality”, Thomas said, following David inside and taking off his hat with a small flourish. David seemed one for theatrics and drama, so Thomas would play to his strengths given the situation before him. He followed David down the hallway and into the living room, taking a moment to look around at the vast array of items and paintings in the room. He noticed that each carried the same signature in black paint, written in the bottom right corner of each piece only followed by a tiny lilac flower. No doubt the former wife of David had painted these magnificent works, he made a mental note to not bring over art, lest he insult or remind David of such tragic events. 

He took his place in a grand looking, red-covered chair. The chair was soft and cushioned with embroidered pillows. Red fabric stretched evenly over a wooden frame with a plump upholstered back and soft seat. It looked almost royal in comparison to the elder Lilac’s favoured chair. A green, high-backed armchair with a golden sheen to the green fabric. Soft looking, yes, but not nearly as clean or new looking as the red chair Thomas had taken. The Lilac’s chair looked worn and old, but it was his and Thomas knew not to insult his choice of chair. 

“Father, Thomas”, a voice greeted them and Thomas rose from his red-lined chair, bowing slightly as Logan watched on, a small smile marring his face as he looked from David to Thomas. 

“Logan. Sit down, will you”, David said, a small forced smile sitting on his lips as he tented his hands and tilted his head to the white couch. Thomas sat back down, swallowing as he eyed the other male. The usual leather hat and coat had been replaced with a high-end looking grey waistcoat, a small pocket watch peeking out of one of the pockets. His glasses looked more expensive too, black rims gone and replaced with shiny, golden wire. His pants were clean and grey pressed to perfection and showing off a pair of clean, shiny black shoes. Thomas was stuck staring at the other man, who just shuffled a little, uncomfortable with the level of staring he was receiving. David coughed and gave his son a polite smile, happy the boy had put some effort into choosing more appropriate clothing. “It’s nice to see you in something other than your hunter gear”, David said looking at his son’s shoes and waistcoat with an approving gaze. 

“Verily. Shall we?”, Logan said, standing and moving to the door, glancing back at the stupefied man he had left in the red chair. Thomas hummed before snapping out of his daze and standing, walking quickly over to Logan and holding the gifts out with a blush. 

“I thought you would approve of these trinkets. May the book serve you as well as it has served me”, Thomas said, seeing David nod softly out of his peripheral vision. At least he had someone on his side when it came to courting Logan. Logan looked at the flowers and book, gently taking them and giving Thomas a small, shy smile. 

“Thank you. It is a pleasure to receive such gifts”, Logan said, moving away and into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a crystal vase and the flowers sitting in water. “Would you be so kind as to make room for this, father?”, Logan asked and David nodded, taking some pictures off the table beside him so his son could place the ornate, crystal vase on the small, wooden structure. He laid the book down next to it and walked back to Thomas, eyeing the man before disappearing back into the kitchen, returning with a basket of fresh fruit, bread, cheese and a blanket. “Shall we?”, Logan asked and Thomas nodded before holding out his hand. Logan allowed his smile to widen a little as he took Thomas’ outstretched hand gently and the two walked to the door.

“Be back by sundown”, David yelled out cheerfully and Logan rolled his eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses, making Thomas chuckle a little.

“I can assure you, we will”, Logan called back as the door shut behind the couple and Anthony’s face appeared at the window. Thomas looked back at the boy and felt a chill crawl up his spine at the cold, icy look the boy was giving him. The traveller made a mental note never to hold Logan’s hand again until after they were off the property and Anthony could no longer see them. 

 

The pair walked down the hill, hands clasped together gently. They reached the town centre and picked up the pace. People cooed and awed as they passed, hand in hand and blushing at the attention they were receiving. Thomas squeezed Logan’s hand a little and the scholarly man relaxed a tad, giving Thomas’ hand a small squeeze back in reassurance. As they walked small clouds of dust clung to Logan’s shoes and pants, covering the grey in a layer of ochre powder. Logan didn’t seem to notice, too shy and timid in the face of their onlookers, but Thomas did. He pulled Logan a little closer to him, shoulder bumping Logan’s a little as the man let out a small huff of air. Thomas merely smiled as they ventured towards the small patch of greenery the town held.

The Green, as many called it, was made up of five trees, a small river, green grass and mossy rocks. The clump was usually left to couples or spouses on picnics as it was ideal for such occasions. The river was crystal clear, save for when the children splashed about in it, bringing mud and dirt to the surface of the water, polluting the pristine crystal with muddy brown. The trees and grass stretched out, leaves creating a small canopy that shaded those who sat under it. Flowers sometimes bloomed close to the river, brightening the surrounding growth with purple, yellow, white and blue. The river reflected these colours tenfold, creating a shimmering masterpiece whose beauty was left to those in courting and those doing the courting. In this case, it was Thomas and Logan who took in the beauty of the green oasis. 

Thomas took the blanket and let go of Logan’s hand, flattening the blanket out on the ground and ensuring that nothing unsavoury lay underneath that would cause discomfort to the other man. Once seated he extended his hand and smiled up at his partner taking pleasure in the small, shy smile the hunter offered him. Logan took Thomas’ hand and sat down next to him, admiring the surrounding foliage that kept them safe from prying eyes. The basket was set down and opened softly, food removed in silence as the trickle of the river and the calling of birds called to mind the songs of nature that lulled babes to sleep. Thomas gently uncorked a bottle of what he presumed must be red wine, pouring it gently into the two glasses packed for them. He picked his own from Logan’s hand and gave the man a small smirk.

“To our friendship and possible relationship”, he said softly, clinking the two glasses together and taking a small sip of the red concoction. He tried not to grimace at the taste, but couldn’t help it as Logan also grimaced. “I see, you don’t like red wine either.”

“It’s not one of my…favourite alcoholic beverages”, Logan said softly and Thomas chuckled a little at the man’s words. The traveller set the glass down and rubbed his hands together with a grin. 

“Let’s get onto something else, shall we?”, Thomas asked and Logan nodded, grateful that he didn’t have to drink the wretched fermented liquid. 

“Let’s”, Logan agreed, taking out some of the food that had been packed that morning. His family’s storehouses were large in comparison to the general grocer in town, their property held many luxurious foodstuffs. Blue cheese wrapped in muslin cloth, a jar of homemade jam, fresh fruit from the orchard, the finest of their honey packed with a piece of the comb, a small slab of fresh bread, and of course the wine they had recently drunk some of. Luxurious and high-end indeed. Thomas' eyes seemed to widen at the small array of food available and Logan pulled out the cutlery and crockery he had insisted on taking. Silver and china glistened in the sun as Logan set about cutting an apple, the skin freshly washed and the fruit grown by the creek. It was a marvellous creation, one that the elder Lilac had been happy to send along with his eldest son. 

“Would you like me to cut the skin off?”, Logan asked, voice holding hesitance as he blushed from the intense stare Thomas was giving him. 

“No, I’d rather not have you do too much work on my part”, Thomas said softly, reaching out and grasping Logan’s hand gently, pushing his face forward and taking a bite from the piece of apple the hunter held. The sweet juice filled his mouth and he couldn’t help but lick his lips as the clear, sugary sweetness dripped from them. “Delicious”, he said quietly and Logan smiled at the compliment. 

“Thank you. Here”, Logan said, offering the rest of the apple to Thomas who took it and gave the hunter a nod of approval. 

“I’d rather have you feed it to me, it tastes so much better when held by the hands that grew it. But I will eat what I have been given. Thank you for such a delicious meal”, Thomas said and Logan looked down, red clouding his cheeks at the words, but a hint of a smile was spreading across his face. “I apologise. I thought that my little joke would be amusing to you. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

“No, no. I…that was somewhat sweet of you. Thank you for the compliment”, Logan said, voice a little shaky as he exhaled, cheeks tinted red like Thomas’ sun-kissed roses. Thomas allowed his eyebrows to drop. It was time to get to work.

“Well…if you don’t mind. Would you…feed them to me?”, Thomas asked, voice sounding soft and shy as he looked down at the apple slices in front of him. 

“I…only if you want me to”, Logan murmured lowly and Thomas turned to him, holding the plate in both hands and offering a slice to Logan, who took it and held it between two of his fingers. The juice dripped down the slim, pale digits, glinting in the sun intensely. A piece of apple poked his lips and he opened his mouth, savouring the sweet sensation and the crisp texture. He munched on the bite as Logan pulled the piece away, face a little red still but dying down in the light of the moment. 

“Logan”, Thomas said, standing and brushing off his pants, turning to look at his soon to be fiancé. Logan looked up at him, eyes bright behind the glass of his spectacles. The light that streamed through the canopy captured his eyes causing them to sparkle, brown light and bright as the sun enveloped him. The rims of his glasses were like sunlight, melting and dripping around two perfect circles of ice to act as windows to the hunter’s eyes, to his soul. It was a stupid notion, but the words and look of pure innocence made Thomas’ heartache at what he would have to do. He steeled himself and gave the man a small smile, showing off his perfectly aligned, marble white teeth. “Wait here. I need to grab something.”

Logan nodded, face a picture of confusion as Thomas walked to the river, took off his shoes and socks, rolled up his sleeves and pants and waded into the river. 

“What are you doing?”, Logan asked, standing up and watching as Thomas laughed, wading out a little further and bending over. His hands disappeared under the rushing waters, white foams forming a little around his arms as he felt about in the water. 

“Come here”, Thomas called out over his shoulder, stumbling a little as he righted himself. Logan sighed, but stood and walked over, taking off his own shoes and socks, rolling up his pants and shirt, finally discarding the waistcoat before wading in beside Thomas. Thomas, seeing the opportunity seized it and pushed a rock out with his foot, effectively causing Logan to stumble and lose his balance. Thomas caught his falling body and Logan looked up sheepishly. 

“You really should stop falling for me”, Thomas chuckled and Logan blushed at the awful joke. He righted himself and stood, promptly smiling as Thomas chuckled, the water rushing around their calves in a cool motion, successfully cooling the duo down in the hot desert heat. 

“What did you want?”, Logan asked, a smile blooming on his face and making his lips tweak upwards. Thomas smirked a little and pulled out two rocks from his pockets. The rocks were a pale cream in colour and a little larger than Logan’s thumbnail. Smooth and flat, but rough around the edges like most rocks are. 

“I thought…if you’re okay with it we could keep these, in memory of our first afternoon alone together”, Thomas said, passing the rock to Logan. The hunter studied it before smiling and pressing the rock to his chest. 

“I’ll treasure it”, he said softly and Thomas smile at him, pocketing the other rock with a smirk. What an idiot this hunter was. Falling for something like this. Something so simple and yet…yet…Thomas’ smirk faded, cold dread and realisation filling his stomach. How could he go through with his plan now? This man was too innocent, too unsettlingly pure. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t feel right, but he wanted that land. He needed that land. 

Logan retrieved his shoes from the bank of the river, turning back and giving Thomas a small smile as the light glimmered behind him, the shadow of the tree’s leaves dancing across his face in delicate patterns. It was as if a painter had stepped forward and created a masterpiece right in front of Thomas. Thomas resigned himself and gave the man a smile. Logan smiled a little wider and turned heading back to the picnic basket and set up. The traveller swallowed softly as his throat constricted, closing over as fear and dread welled up, cold bubbling feelings that chilled him to the bone. He moved his legs, stepping onto the bank and watching as Logan busied himself with taking something from the basket, light dancing across the rims of his glasses as the golden rays filtered into his brown locks. Thomas almost groaned. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t hurt this man. 

“Thomas, would you like some cheese, or perhaps some bread and jam”, Logan offered and Thomas bit his lip as his mind began to play tug-of-war with his emotions and heart. He sat down on the blanket and uttered a small thank you to Logan as the man handed him some bread, jam smeared on lightly. The hot fluffy bread contrasted with the sweet jam as the smell of flour and raspberries filled his mind with thoughts of early mornings. 

“This is really good”, Thomas murmured softly, taking another bite while Logan simply smiled at him. 

“Thank you. The bread was made by Anthony, but I refused to allow him to endanger himself with the process of making the jam”, Logan murmured back, taking a bite of his own bread and slipping the lid of the jar tightly onto the glass container. Thomas almost sighed as he looked at Logan, brown eyes meeting glass covered ones as the two shared a silent conversation, eyes alight with small fires of passion. With a rather loud sigh, Thomas flopped down onto the ground, head hitting the blanket before he turned onto his side and cradled his head with one hand. Logan pushed his legs out and didn’t stop the traveller from moving closer until the soft brown hair and hand landed on Logan’s lap. The hunter didn’t protest these actions as Thomas turned over and closed his eyes, closed eyes facing the sky above as the light filtered through the leaves above them.

The world dimmed as the sun rolled behind the clouds, golden shadow lighting the fluffy objects before it became one with the hills, fading but continuing to cast its glow over the sleepy town. Logan was lost in thought, eyes on the river not five feet away, bubbling and murmuring as it flowed crystal clear, tinted gold from the setting sun. Thomas opened his eyes and looked up at the leaves. 

“We’d better get going”, Thomas murmured, sitting up from his position where his head had been cradled in Logan’s lap and the man had thumbed his hair absentmindedly. Logan seemed to fade back into reality, slowly realising how late it had gotten and how much his father would love that he’d spent the day with Thomas…alone. Oh, David would love this.

“Thank you, for such a wonderful afternoon”, Logan murmured as he packed up the food, Thomas folded the blanket silently and looked at the hunter with a smile on his face. 

“It was nothing. I…I just like spending time with you”, Thomas said with a small smile, making the hunter blush a little and smile at the traveller’s words. 

“Well…thank you…for that…for spending time with me”, Logan said softly, giving Thomas a shy smile as the traveller handed him the blanket and the two stood. They walked back to the town in silence, save for the birds calling and the sound of rocks colliding under their feet. The town was relatively empty apart from a few drunk people and the occasional couple en route home. They were halfway up the hill when the sun completely set, leaving only the glow over the tops of the hills to illuminate the town below. The golden light leaked in a steady path over the hills, capturing the town and the tops of the houses in all their glory. Halfway up the hill, Thomas captured Logan’s hand in his own soft embrace, causing the hunter to give him a small, shy smile. When they reached the point where the road met their respective homes they turned to each other, looked into the soft brown of the man before them and let their hands drop. “Thank you…for staying with me”, Logan murmured, running a hand through his hair a little before the hand was taken from him and into Thomas’ hands. The traveller clasped his hands over Logan’s before leaning down and placing the lightest of kisses on the flesh of the other man. 

“It was my honour and pleasure to spent the day with such a wonderful companion”, Thomas said with a smile, letting Logan’s hand go and winking before turning and opening his gate. The gate creaked a little, rust flaking off as white, chipped paint blew into the wind under the traveller’s hand. Thomas straightened and turned to Logan once more. “I hope to see you again soon. Perhaps…my house, tomorrow for lunch?”, Thomas offered and Logan chuckled a little. 

“I’ll think about it”, the hunter said with a smile before opening his own gate and closing it behind him, the door opening as his brother raced out and into the elder Lilac’s waiting arms. Anthony glared at Thomas over his older brother’s shoulder. Thomas gave the boy a tight looking smile before turning and entering his house, door shutting softly behind him as he tossed his coat and hat onto the chest of drawers, the small figurine moving a little as the fan rattled at the drawer’s movement. Thomas almost swore when the small figurine toppled over and rolled onto its side. He ran to it and looked the porcelain over as his mind conjured up swear after swear, berating himself for being so careless. Gentle fingers picked the figure up and wide brown eyes looked it over. Pale digits ran the length of the unchipped white surface, dancing across the painted hair and glasses with practised ease. Thomas let out a sigh as he closed his eyes, opening them once more to look at the figure. It looked like Logan, yet the figure itself was of someone else entirely.

Thomas set the figure back in its place and walked into the living room with heavy feet. He practically fell into his favourite chair, looking sideways at the large window that showed him the rest of the world. A figure moved in the Lilac house and Thomas narrowed his eyes as the figure came into better focus. Logan moved swiftly, taking a book from beside a vase of flowers. The book Thomas had given him. He opened the book, smiling a little at the forewords before taking a seat in the red chair Thomas had taken only this morning. He relaxed back into the red, seemingly enraptured with the book. The scene made Thomas smile, but as his eyes wandered from the hunter to the figurine he made up his mind. The hunter had to go.

 

Roman growled softly as Patton pushed another glass of water his way. The bartender was refusing to serve him anything alcoholic at present and it was becoming very annoying, considering that he was probably the only patron not completely drunk. His mind wandered back to that afternoon where he’d found Logan and Thomas together in The Green. If he could find something wrong with the man he’d have been happy, but Thomas had been a perfect gentleman going so far as to act like a man out of one of Logan’s many books. It annoyed Roman to no end that the traveller could be so darn perfect all the time, but Logan liked him so there was nothing the hunter could do. 

“You look down, Ro. How can I help kiddo?”, Patton asked, eyeing the hunter as he stepped up to the bar, glass and cleaning rag in hand. His eyes wandered over the hunter’s sagging form and his heart jumped as their eyes met. Sad eyes looked into shocked and worried ones before the sadness disappeared and Roman looked at the bar, swirling a finger around the rim of his glass.

“It’d be helpful if you could find a flaw in Thomas”, Roman muttered and Patton nodded softly, licking his lips as he tried to think up anything that could help the hunter at present. He couldn’t tell the man about Virgil or Thomas’ real motive for courting Logan. He’d practically promised not to say anything and now…now here he was stuck at a crossroads unable to go the way he wanted. 

“I’m sure you’ll find something”, Patton said with a soft sigh as Roman’s shoulders sagged further and he let out a pitiful grunt at the words. It took all Patton had not to say something to the man. “I’ll be right back”, Patton said softly and Roman made a noise of acknowledgement. Patton moved swiftly into the back of the bar, closing the oak door softly behind him before running his hands through his hair. How could he tell Roman and Logan that Thomas was an outlaw boss without blowing Virgil’s cover and crushing Logan’s heart? The man seemed entirely enamoured with the traveller from the way Roman had been talking about the date the two had shared in The Green. It’d break Patton’s heart to break Logan’s and that just wouldn’t do. “Stupid, stupid, stupid Patton”, the bartender murmured softly, repeating the words to himself as he gently banged his head into the wood of the door. He groaned softly as he pictured Logan’s face, stormier than the wet season with tear stained cheeks, face red from crying over the outlaw boss. He’d never be able to do it unless…unless he could convince Virgil to out Thomas. If Virgil outed Thomas then Patton wouldn’t be breaking Logan’s heart and the outlaw didn’t seem to have any real feelings for the hunters or the town so it shouldn’t bother him too much. 

Patton stood, face filled with determination and heart stony as he made up his mind. He’d close the bar, for the very first time since he’d opened it, and ride out to one of the other bars. If Logan had been to one with outlaws all he had to do was ride to that one and find Virgil’s location, easy as pie. Patton whipped around with a smile on his face and left the back room of his bar, the door closing firmly behind him. Roman looked up, tilting his head in confusion. 

“What’s got you so happy?”, he asked and Patton shrugged before bending down, elbows meeting the wood of the bar.

“Do you happen to have a spare coat, perchance?”

 

Patton shuffled a little as the heavy coat pulled him down. How could his two friends bear to wear this. It was heavy and stuffy. It smelt foul too. Like something had died in it and then the coat had been hung out in the sun for hours on end. Sweat was beginning to bead down his face, but he was more worried about his water supplies. Roman had always told him that if he ever travelled he shouldn’t drink too much, water from other towns could be contaminated or spiked with all manner of things. Logan had lent him a horse…okay, he’d borrowed it without the Lilac’s permission but if Logan found out what he was doing he’d be in so much trouble. Logan wouldn’t believe him if he told him about Thomas’ true intentions, so he needed Virgil and that should be proof enough for Logan to see reason. 

The dust swirled around him as his horse carried him ever further into the wastelands of the desert. Scorching sands and water boiling heat as far as the eye could see. He’d sagged a map off Logan a day or two ago, promising to take it back one it had been studied. Logan couldn’t say no to him, so he allowed Patton the courtesy of keeping the map which was now Patton’s only guide on the harsh sun-kissed road. The map said there was supposed to be a bar only a few more miles away, but Patton couldn’t see the structure. He wouldn’t give up hope though. If Logan was willing to risk everything for the town, he’d be ready to risk it all for Logan in return. 

The sun had begun to set by the time Patton saw the hill. Shaped like a raven’s head it loomed over the track, carving fear into all who laid eyes on it. In the dark and the setting sun, it looked only more imposing as the sun cast shadows under the eye ridges, black settling into crevices and making the legendary feathers appear. The horse below him jolted a little as it stumbled on a loose rock, the movement causing Patton to seize up. The raven’s head seemed to stare straight through him as he passed by it, consulting the map in the ever-darkening world around him. His horse kept moving, slower but still moving towards their goal. The pair stopped under a rock as Patton struggled to read the map; should he go left…or right? Which was the correct way to go? Patton sighed and kicked the horse into gear, coming out from under the rock and gasping at the sight above him. Starlight pierced through the heavens as the sky erupted in glittering, iridescent dots of pure white light. They shone off his glasses, pinpricks of light dancing over the glass slowly as the horse and rider passed underneath their beautiful display. 

Patton smiled a little as the last hill came into view; a dog head shaped hill with pointy spikes growing up like raised ears. The bar came into sight shortly after, a warm orange glow surging out into the desert. Patton shivered and silently thanked Roman for lending him the thick coat. It was no wonder they wore them when the desert got so cold of a night.

The bartender drew his horse up to the bar, wrapping the reins around the railing and smiling as he looked at the establishment. Windows above leaked the glow of candles through closed curtains while the door held no light back, fully illuminating roughly five feet from the oak frame. Patton rubbed his nose and stepped up onto the creaky splintering stairs, narrowly avoiding a passed-out patron that had been on his way out to get his horse. The man swallowed softly and moved closer to the door frame looking inside, eyes searching for the only outlaw he really knew. Upon finding nothing among the sleeping, drunk or vulgar figures Patton took a seat at the bar and stripped off his coat, folding it messily and dropping it onto the barstool beside him. 

“What can I get you, stranger?”, a voice asked and Patton looked up to see the bartender. 

“Uh, waters fine. What’s your name?”, Patton asked, feeling a little uncomfortable about not being the one behind the bar.

“Talyn. And you?”, the bartender asked with a polite smile, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, handing it off to the tired man. 

“Patton. Nice to meet you Talyn”, he said with a smile and Talyn smiled back. 

“What’re you doing this far out? You’re not a...hunter, are you?”, Talyn asked, moving their face close to Patton’s and whispering the words. Patton choked on his water, setting the glass down and coughing into his hand. 

“Good heavens, no. I…I could never be a hunter”, Patton said with a small sigh, the soft sound ringing out through the bar as a snore became more present. 

“Well, what are you doing here? Looking for someone?”, Talyn asked and Patton nodded at the other bartender. 

“I’m looking for a friend of mine. He goes by the name Virgil”, Patton said and Talyn nodded, a sly smile slipping onto their face. 

“You’re one of his friends, are you. Well, any friend of Verge’s is a friend of mine”, Talyn said, sitting down opposite Patton and holding out their own glass, the two crystalline containers clinking together softly. 

“I…I’ve only known Virgil for a few weeks now and he hasn’t been back to town for a while now. I’m honestly a little worried and…and I need his help with something”, Patton said softly. Talyn nodded in understanding their glass hitting the bar softly. 

“Well, you should try Joan’s bar. Not too far away. I can take you there in the morning if you’d like”, Talyn said and Patton smiled at them gratefully. 

“That’d be appreciated, thank you”, Patton said before downing the rest of his water. 

“Stay upstairs tonight, patrons can get rowdy at night. You might want to lock your door”, Talyn suggested and Patton nodded. 

“Yeah, I know what that’s like. I’m a bartender too…in Akers town. Come by and visit when you can”, Patton said happily as he made his way up the rickety stairs and to the door.

“Will do”, Talyn called after him as he shut the door and made his way to the first single room. He collapsed in the room, asleep before his head hit the mattress.


	7. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talyn takes Patton to see Virgil and the trip ends with some new information, an angry Joan, and a distraught Patton. Joan and Talyn ride to Akers town and Roman reveals some information about Anthony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. It's been too long. I tried, I really did, but the new chapter...it's not good. It's not bad either, but it's short compared to the previous ones. It's been way too long. I was hoping to have this up on the 29th of September. I'm sorry.
> 
> Honourable mentions and thanks to XxTearfulChildxX for commenting, as well as settingitoff and the 3 guests that left kudos on the last chapter.
> 
> Onto the very late story (I'm so sorry it took this long)

Talyn woke Patton up the next morning, water splashing onto the other bartender as he was rudely awoken from his slumber. 

“Let’s get moving. I don’t want to have any patrons come in before we leave, which means we need to be out the door and locked up in a couple of minutes”, Talyn said and Patton nodded, vaguely aware he was not at home in his usual bed. The bartender left his room, door shutting quietly behind them while Patton sat up, still dazed as he fumbled about for his glasses and coat. He realized quickly that his coat was still downstairs and berated himself for being so tired and silly as to leave it down there. He pushed his boots off, rubbing his feet quickly before putting them back on and standing up. He took a few steps to the door, steadying himself before opening the door and exiting the room. 

Talyn was waiting downstairs for him, hat in hand and coat sitting heavy on their shoulders. The bar was empty of patrons, hot wind blowing through the gaps in the slitted windows. It was eerie to see something that had been so lively so dead now, Talyn supposed they had never really shut up the bar before since they’d gotten someone else to tend to the patrons when they rode to Joan’s, but that wasn’t to be right now. Patton grabbed his coat, slinging it around his shoulders and sighing as the heavy leather weighed down on his frame.

“Let’s get moving then”, the man said before exiting and untying his horse. He pushed himself into the saddle and waited for Talyn to lock up. After locking up they moved into a small stable off the bar while Patton moved uncomfortably in his saddle, watching and listening to the sounds of horses came from the small stable. Talyn appeared not a moment later with a horse of their own. 

“Let’s go”, the bartender said before kicking their horse into gear, leaving Patton in the dust. 

“W-wait up!”, Patton called out, racing to catch up with the other rider as the sun slowly rose over the desert. 

The heat was becoming unbearable quickly, fingers of light prodding at Patton’s leather-clad back with wicked intentions. Sweat rolled down in glittering droplets, staining his clothes with dark patches for a moment before lightening, the process repeated itself and Patton sighed. Talyn didn’t seem to be having as much trouble with the devil creation they called the sun as he was. In fact, they looked almost calm in the sun as they traveled to the other bar, a small smile creeping across their face as the rays caught their features. It took around an hour to get to the next bar and by the time they had arrived Patton felt like he could accept death with wide arms into a welcoming embrace. But alas he was not fated to die in the sandbox from hell and as the bar drew closer the more awake Patton felt. His body was tingling at the thought of seeing another outlaw bar, one with more customers no less. There was a shout or two, but overall the bar was decently rowdy.

Patton had expected bottles to be thrown his way when he entered, but all that was thrown his way was a smile from a couple of patrons lounging out on the deck in the heat. 

“Afternoon, Tal”, one of the patrons said, smile widening as Talyn drew their horse up to the railing as slid off, reins in hand so they could tie the horse up. 

“And to you”, Talyn muttered, pulling the reins tight and looking at the one that had spoken to them. “Make sure no one steals James, will you?”

“You got it, Tal”, the man said with a yellow smile before one of his cronies nudged him and said something under their breath making the patron laugh and spill some of his drink on the deck. Patton winced but didn’t make eye contact when the man called out to him foully. With a grimace, Talyn stepped over the spilled drink, Patton at their heels.  
Joan glanced up when they entered greeting the pair with a wide smile. 

“Talyn”, the bartender called out as the smaller of the pair sat down, eyes roaming the bar.

“Hello, Joan”, Talyn said with a smile, moving their eyes back to the other out of town bartender. 

“What can I get you?”, Joan asked and Talyn nodded their head at the cupboards behind the other bartender. 

“The usual. Patton, you want anything?”, Talyn asked and Patton looked back at them a little dazed from the cool air that had engulfed him when he had stepped inside the establishment. 

“Uh…water, thank you”, Patton muttered softly, gaze moving away from the other bartenders and around the room. His eyes narrowed a little at each black leather wearing male he saw, hoping that it was Virgil and being sorely disappointed each time. 

“Okay then”, Joan said slowly, turning his gaze away from the visitor and over to Talyn who sighed softly, rolling their eyes as the breath was exhaled. 

“He’s a friend of Virge’s. Wanted to find him and came to my bar last night hoping he’d be there”, Talyn said and Joan nodded in understanding. 

“Well…Patton, was it? Virgil is here, he’s just…sleeping at the moment, but he should be down in a few hours”, Joan said and Patton turned around giving the bartender a grateful smile. 

“Thank you. I…I was hoping that I’d only be away a day, but…thank you Talyn, for helping me”, Patton said and Talyn nodded, smiling softly at the man. 

“It was nothing, but…to repay me could you tell us what exactly you need Virge’s help with?”, Talyn said and Patton looked down at the bar, eyes alight with worry and concern. Joan handed him a glass of water and Patton took it with a small thank you. After taking a drink from the glass Patton sighed and set it down, looking up at Talyn and Joan before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Well, you see…my friend is going to be married off and…and Virgil knows the person my friend is being married off to. He…he’s Virgil’s boss apparently and I thought that maybe if…if Virgil had the right motivation he’d be able to stop his boss from hurting my friend. I know he might not care about Lo very much, but he might be able to get Lo out of marrying Thomas”, Patton said before taking another sip from his glass and coughing.

“Thomas is…getting married?”, Joan asked softly and Patton hesitated a little at the question. 

“He…he’s courting Lo at the moment, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be engaged within the fortnight”, Patton murmured and Talyn sat back a little. The two out of town bartenders were shocked, to say the least as the outlaw boss had never shown interest in anyone before. 

“Where are you from?”, Joan asked, voice quiet as they leaned back against the cupboards. 

“I’m from A-”

“Patton?”, a rough voice asked and the three turned to look at a messily dressed and unkempt Virgil. He was swaying a little on his feet, dark circles adorning his eyes as he looked down at them. He looked tired, to say the least, along with looking a tad drunk. The outlaw sat down heavily before rubbing a hand over his face, growling a little while Joan busied themselves grabbing the black-clad man some water. 

“Virgil. Good to know you’re here. Joan, Talyn and I have just been talking about something and I was won-”, Patton began but Virgil cut him off.

“You were wondering if I could out Thomas to the town to stop him from marrying Logan, right?”, Virgil guessed and Patton nodded sheepishly. “Can’t help you. See if I help out Thomas will…well…let’s just say it won’t be pretty.”

“B…but Logan will-”

“Logan will be fine…he’ll be fine after the marriage. Look…I can’t help, but I…I suppose some foresight into Thomas’ plans would help you. He’s going to break Logan’s legs to stop him from riding off, he’ll make it look like an accident, then after than Thomas’ll sweep Logan off his feet and they’ll get married and live happily ever after”, Virgil said, spitting out the last of his words as he downed the water. 

“Logan…Logan Magenta?”, Talyn asked and Virgil nodded a little while Patton was still trying to comprehend what was going to happen to his friend.

“His real name’s Logan Lilac though”, Virgil said, eyes darting to Joan as a glass smashed to the ground. Their hands were shaking a little before they reached out suddenly and gripped Patton’s shoulders like iron. Patton looked up into the bartender’s smoldering eyes, but couldn’t find it in him to care at present. 

“Are you from Akers town?”, Joan asked and Patton nodded softly while Joan seemed to shake with rage. 

“Woah, buddy. Calm down”, Virgil said as Joan shot back like they had been burned. The bartender let out a loud bout of swearing drawing the attention of all the patrons in the bar, minus Patton who was still dazed. 

“W…what’s wrong Joan?”, Talyn asked softly and Joan slumped onto the counter a bit, eyes filled with the hot fires of anger. It blazed in their core, scorching their insides as they growled softly.

“Calm down”, Virgil growled, grabbing Joan’s shoulder and digging his nails into the shirt and skin. “You lot go back to what you were doing”, the outlaw called out and the small group of patrons mumbled softly, taking up their drinks once more. 

“What’s wrong Joan?”, Talyn asked again, speaking more firmly and slamming their hands down in front of the bartender’s face. 

“Logan…he was my best friend when we were kids. And Thomas…Thomas”, Joan said softly, lifting their body from the counter and glaring at the door. “Thomas is going to get what’s coming to him.”

“Hey, hold on. You can’t just abandon the bar in the middle of the day”, Virgil said as Joan shook off his hand and began to walk towards the door, eyes fixed on the sand outside.

“Watch me”, Joan growled low under his breath as he walked out of the door and down the stairs, moving out of sight as a horse neighed. 

“Oh, no”, Virgil muttered as Talyn stood and moved quickly to the door.

“Stay here and don’t let anyone steal anything”, the smaller bartender yelled as they raced after Joan to the annoyed shouts of the outlaw. Virgil groaned and looked over at Patton. The Akers town bartender hadn’t said a word since Virgil had mentioned Thomas’ plan. Virgil was feeling a little guilty, so against his better judgment he sighed, grabbed Patton and hauled him onto his back, walking up the stairs and into Thomas’ office. He dropped the despondent man into Thomas’ chair and walked out again, moving swiftly down to the bar where someone had the guts to try and steal some liquor. 

“Hey”, the outlaw called out, raising a pistol into the air and taking aim at the stupid outlaw that had tried to steal the liquor. “Put it back and walk out that door”, Virgil muttered under his breath, finger pulling the trigger back a little as the man ran out the door and into the sun. “The rest of you, out. This place is closing business for the next day or two”, the black-clad man called out to a round of groans. Virgil shot a glass sitting on the bar as a few souls decided it would be funny to stay back a little longer. They ran out as fast as their legs would carry them. Virgil sighed and looked at the empty bar. Looks like I’ll be the one cleaning up today, he mused as he put the pistol away, closed the door and began to clean up the leftover bottles and glasses. 

 

Talyn grabbed James, cursing loudly as Joan’s distant figure began to blur on the horizon line. They were so far away, but Talyn had to get them back. Had to stop them from making a mistake they’d gravely regret. So, with a little resignation and a bucketful of determination, Talyn grabbed James’ reins, kicked the steed into gear and pushed the horse as fast as he would go. 

Joan growled out curses through gritted teeth as they pushed their horse to move faster. They could hear Talyn calling out for them to slow down, but all they could think about was Logan’s safety. Talyn pushed their horse to move faster until the two riders were neck and neck, Talyn swerved and Joan had to pull their horseback quickly as the two almost collided. The pair came to a halt as the horses stood on shaking legs, tired from being pushed to their limits so quickly. 

“Move Talyn”, Joan said, voice ice cold and eyes as hard as steel. They gave the other bartender a chilling glare, but Talyn stood their ground, glaring back with just as much vehemence.

“I can’t do that. I won’t do that until you calm down”, Talyn said firmly and Joan growled at the continued blockage of their path. Joan let out a yell and gripped their head with their hands, trying in vain to calm down.

“I need to get to Logan”, Joan yelled out, but Talyn stayed where they were, eyes firm and cold as they looked over Joan’s figure. Joan let out a growl, but slid down in the saddle, sighing as they finally gave into Talyn. 

“Logan will be fine for a while yet, what we need is for your horse to get some rest. You’ve run it rugged and Akers town is still a while out”, Talyn murmured and Joan allowed their hands to drop back to the saddle, gripping the leather in their hands and looking down at their horse’s mane. 

“You’re…you’re still…you’re coming with me to Akers?”, Joan asked, voice small as they looked up at Talyn, the smaller bartender gave them a smile before turning their horse away from Joan’s and back onto the road. Joan watched as the horse became smaller and smaller in the distance, almost becoming a black speck on the horizon until Talyn called out to them.

“You coming or what?”, The bartender called out and Joan let a smile fall on their face as they raced their horse to Talyn and the two embarked on their journey to Akers town. Silence their ever-present companion.

 

It took them a little under an hour to reach the small town and Joan had never been so glad to see their old home before. The dusty track, The Green, the twisting paths that lead to and fro across town. The old sign hung heavy above the entrance and Joan stood up in their saddle, tapping the sign with a smile as the pair passed underneath it. A small waterfall of dust rained down on the pair and Talyn groaned, brushing off as much as they could while Joan took the opportunity to laugh. They rode their horses into the center of the town and Joan marveled at how much the area had changed since they were a child. Barrels marred the decks he used to chase Logan on and the bar was nearly new. They remembered running past the construction site at the ripe age of six and getting scolded by Logan when they fell and hurt their knee. It was no surprise Logan was a hunter now, but couldn’t he have thought up a better name than Magenta. They supposed the hunter didn’t think anyone would be able to track him back to Akers town, therefore there was no need to heavily conceal his identity. 

A whistle drew the taller of the riders out of their daydream and back into the real world where dust and sand reigned supreme. The sun glared down upon them, glittering sands making their eyes water a little from the brightness. The one who had whistled at them appeared to be a man, standing in the center of the road, hat covering his eyes and nose from their view. Joan gave the man a withering glare but stopped nonetheless.

“You know, people tend to prefer a hello before you stop them”, Talyn said, voice holding a tone of annoyance as they looked down at the man in front of them, a few steps ahead of Joan and their horse. The man simply smirked, hand going to his coat pocket and causing Talyn to start back a little as a pistol was whipped out. The man grabbed James’ reins and held firm to the leather straps while Talyn sat in the saddle shocked and a little frightened about what to do. The people around them had vanished long ago, so the only lifeforms dotting the center road of the town were the riders and the gunman. Joan waited, afraid to move lest they upset the man and cause him to shoot the other rider. 

“I believe hello’s to be better used on friends, not enemies”, the man said, the pistol clicking slightly in his grip, one finger casually stroking the trigger as he tilted his head up a little. The dark smirk turned a little friendlier as two brown eyes peeked out from under the hat, golden flecks dancing in the warm hues. “So, who might you two be? Outlaws perhaps?”

“No, sorry to disappoint you”, Joan almost spat, they didn’t like the way the man was speaking to them, to Talyn. The gun wasn’t moving and the other bartender was as stiff as a board in the face of the weapon. “We’re bartenders. We came to see an old friend of mine.”

“And who might that be?”, the man asked, looking from Joan to Talyn and back, eyes still dancing with a little humor while also depicting malice in the chocolaty depths. 

“His name’s Logan. I…I used to live here. My name’s Joan”, the taller rider said and the man lifted an eyebrow skeptically, examining the rider with a calculating gaze. 

“Joan, you say? Joan what?”, the man asked and Joan sighed, biting their lip and growling softly. They had hated their last name since the beginning of their life and would only continue to hate it.

“Joan Hardwood”, the tall rider grumbled under their breath and the man turned his head to the side, cupping a hand around his ear.

“Sorry, what was that?”, the man asked and Joan growled softly, the pistol, however, seemed to drop a little in the air, though this went unseen by the tall bartender. 

“Joan Hardwood”, Joan repeated and the man stifled some laughter.

“Sorry, what?”, the man asked, a little laughter in his voice as the pistol dropped more, finger releasing the trigger. 

“You heard me, you son of a-”

“It’s good to have you back Joan. How’ve you been?”, the man asked and Joan gave him a bewildered look. He tucked the pistol away in his clothes as he released Talyn’s reins, patting James’ neck gently before taking his hat off and giving the pair a little bow. “Bar’s out of commission for the time being. Our bartender, Patton, he’s gone out to visit someone a few towns over.”

“Wait, wait…Roman?”, Joan asked and Roman nodded moving away from Talyn and walking over to Joan with a smirk.

“It’s been a while…Hardwood”, Roman said, stifling a laugh as he shook Joan’s hand. Joan gave the man a withering glare before looking up at Talyn, who seemed to be doing better now a gun was no longer directly in their face. 

“It has. How long now?”, Joan asked politely, slipping off their horse and taking the reins, walking with Roman to the bar a little way off to tie up the horse. 

“Oh, a good eighteen years. Maybe twenty I’d say”, Roman chuckled and Joan shook their head with a sigh.

“Too long then”, Joan mumbled, running a hand over the white peeling paint on the wooden railing.

“I…I honestly didn’t think you’d come back, and with a friend no less”, Roman muttered as Talyn closed in on the pair, slipping off their horse as they neared. 

“Well, that’s all we are. Friends”, Joan said, narrowing their eyes at Roman who merely put his hands up in mock surrender.

“I never said anything”, Roman said, smirk back with two rows of dazzling white teeth. 

“It was implied”, Joan growled under their breath as Talyn walked up to them and gave the pair a small smile.

“So, where’s this Logan Lilac guy?”, Talyn asked and Joan looked at Roman. Roman nodded softly and turned his back to the hills, throwing his thumb back and jabbing at the hills behind him.

“He lives up there. Same with this traveler guy called Thomas Saderson”, Roman said with a small smile, stepping backward and turning. Upon not hearing footsteps behind him Roman turned to them and gave them a confused look. “You two coming or what?”

“Oh, right”, Joan said, following after Roman, Talyn at their heels. Joan looked back at Talyn who shared the same worried expression as they did. Thomas was most likely here. Hopefully, they wouldn’t see him on their way to Logan’s, but Joan had a sneaking suspicion that would not be the case.

The group trundled up the hill, watching out for loose rocks and more than once the two outsiders had to be steadied as they misjudged the ground below and the small rocks gave way under their weight. Roman occasional mentioned things that Joan had missed in the years they had spent away from Akers town. Talyn didn’t talk, choosing to take in the beauty of the world around them, from the sun caressed rocks full of glittering quartz to the small river that reflected the gentle rays. The trees swayed lightly in the breeze, large branches stirred to life by the hot winds and dust clouds. Joan glanced over at the smaller bartender, they were grateful that the smaller had decided to accompany them, but that close call with Roman made their heart race. What if it hadn’t been Roman? What if it had been an outlaw or a hunter they didn’t know? What if…what if Talyn had been shot?

Talyn let out a cry and Joan reached out a hand to steady them. They could feel Talyn’s heart beating erratically beneath their clothing, pumping blood around their body vehemently. Joan wondered if Talyn’s heart had beat this fast when faced with Roman’s pistol. 

“We’re here”, Roman said, stopping between two houses, hands and arms stretching up to the sky as his joints popped lightly with the new exertion. His head swiveled between the two houses, eyes finally landing on his two companions. Joan felt their body grow stiff with anticipation and nervousness as Talyn grasped their arm firmly, small hands trembling a little with nerves. “Logan’s is this one. He should be he-”

“Roman! Good afternoon to you”, a voice called out and Roman’s head turned to look at the brown-haired man. Thomas smiled at the hunter, white teeth clenched as he tried not to let his true feelings show. How he hated the man. 

“Thomas. A good afternoon to you as well”, Roman said. Thomas felt a little bile rise up at the hunter’s perfect smile. Golden hearted, pretty boy, the traveler thought as he took in Roman and the two others with him. His eyes widened a tad at the sight of the bartenders, Joan’s expression hard and cold as their dark eyes shot shards of sharp ice into his soul. Talyn seemed a little less angry, opting to cling to the other bartender with a frown marring their face. 

“And what might you be doing?”, Thomas asked, folding his hands together behind his back, a fake smile lighting up his features. The traveler coughed lightly as a breeze swept through his front garden, pollen drifting into the air in a thick, heavily scented cloud. Thomas’ eyes moved from the bartenders to Roman as his mid was infiltrated once more with thoughts of the man. How he loathed him, with his loud voice and closeness to Logan. He wouldn’t have minded the man quite so much, had he kept his nose out of Thomas’ business. The hunter seemed insistent on finding faults that he could use to exploit Thomas, give Logan reason to rethink his attraction to the traveler. 

“I’m taking these lovely people to see Logan. Don’t worry, they’re not here to steal him from you”, Roman said, voice saturated and dripping with a sugar sweet niceness that made both men want to gag. Thomas hid the sneer that fought its way up to his face, hand rubbing his chin to push the feelings down. Joan and Talyn seemed to be tuning out the conversation, Joan’s eyes drawn to the door of the Lilac house.

“They’d better not be”, Thomas said with a chuckle, fake niceties and polite greeting thrown out the door as he turned and walked down the path and back to his door, fingers trailing over the heads of wilting flowers that grew like weeds in the front garden. His fingers clasped around a beautiful daffodil, yellow as the sun. He plucked it and turned back to the group, single daffodil clasped in his hand. “I’ve things to attend to, but I bid the three of you good day”, Thomas said watching their eyes, three pairs of optical spheres unable to look away from the daffodil. Thomas smirked a little before turning around, holding the daffodil out as he walked while his other hand rested on the small of his back. He let his fingers trail up to the head, clasp the head in his hand and crush it. The flower made a soft crunch of protest and with a neutral expression the traveller dropped it. The man opened his door and entered his home, effectively ending all contact with the three people outside his house.

“Well he seems nice”, Talyn said, finally speaking albeit low and sarcastically. Joan let slip a small chuckle while the hunter laughed at the small bartender’s antics. 

“Come, come. Logan will be happy to see you after so long”, Roman said, still chuckling quietly as he motioned the two in through the gate, hand settling on the peeling white paint and rusty metal. The gate creaked open and the hunter followed the pair up the path, taking a second to look up at the majesty that was the Lilac household. 

The door creaked a little, brass handle rattling before it opened and a small boy with coffee skin that glowed healthily in the sun’s golden rays, raced out. The boy weaved past the two foreigners, jumping up and diving into Roman’s stomach, small arms wrapping around the man’s waist. Roman let out an excited yelp as he swung the boy around, earning raised eyebrows and confused expressions from the two ahead of him. Roman set the boy down and ruffled his dark hair, mouth stretched into a wide smile as the boy grinned up at him. 

“Uh, Roman…who’s this?”, Joan asked, puzzled by the familiarity shown by the hunter to the small boy. 

“Oh, right. You left before Logan’s mother passed and Anthony was adopted. Joan, Talyn, this is Anthony. Anthony this is Joan Hardwood and Talyn…uh, Talyn. They’re from out of town and Joan knew your brother and me when we were little. They left a…a while back”, Roman explained and Anthony looked to the pair, nut-brown orbs swimming with wonder and awe. 

“You knew my brother when he was little?”, the boy asked and Joan hesitantly nodded their head. Anthony let out a small screech and bolted to Joan, taking the foreigner’s hands and looking up at them happily. 

“Y-yes?”, Joan said voice questioning as he answered. Anthony gripped Joan’s hands closer to his chest, eyes full of amazement and happiness.

“What was he like?”, Anthony asked, voice high, eyes bright as he stared up into Joan’s brown pools. Joan looked back down at the small boy, before glancing up at Talyn and Roman. The hunter had a smile decorating his face, lips upturned ever so slightly with the prospect of reliving the better years of his life through Joan’s storytelling. Joan sighed and crouched down, inspecting the boy with a small smile of his own.

“How about we head inside and Logan can help me tell the story?”, Joan asked and Anthony let out a cheer of delight before running to the door, stopping and turning, giving the group an apologetic smile. 

“Logan’s not home right now, but you can wait for him inside if you want”, Anthony said. Joan seemed to deflate a little, only perking up when Roman put a strong hand on their shoulder.

“Yeah…yeah that sounds good”, Joan muttered as the trio walked forward, eyes set on the door.


	8. Crystal Paintings And Killing Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joan shares their childhood with Anthony while Roman ponders his childhood with both. Logan is forced to find a partner by the end of the month and Virgil finds something he shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be grateful. Be very grateful...or not. I'm just so tired. I wrote about 6000 words in three days so yeah, no big deal or anything. Also, I wouldn't be too hopeful on when the next chapter appears since I have exams coming up and all you year twelve-rs know how bad exams are. The story may or may not go on hiatus at the beginning of November.
> 
> Thank you to XxTearfulChildxX, an Anonymous, morticiaaddams1, and BluBunniHoney for commenting on the first and seventh chapter. And a thank you to BluBunniHoney and the two guests who left kudos. 
> 
> And now the chapter that I rushed out so you guys didn't have to wait so long; chapter 8. (*slow clapping because I'm tired as heck*)

“So, this is Logan’s home now. I remember when it was so run down the wood panels would fall off the walls if you touched them wrong”, Joan murmured as the three followed Anthony through the house and into the living room.

“Crystal really helped fix the place up. When she died Logan took over and did most of the maintenance, I helped out and so did Anthony. The place just kept getting better and better, but since Logan and I are hunters now it’s been harder to maintain upkeep with just Anthony to do it”, Roman responded, running a hand over one of the frames around one of the many landscape paintings. A picture of golden fields for as far as the painter could have seen blew wildly, yellow stalks twisting as the wind whipped them about. The sun peeked out behind dark grey clouds, rays caressing the beautiful shining wheat. There were thin lines of white and blue in the clouds, lightning sprinting through the painting. It was so real, yet the picture held so much significance to the Lilac household.

“How…how did Mrs. Lilac…how did Crystal die?”, Joan asked, stopping and waiting as Talyn walked past them and into the living room. Roman stopped beside them and gave them a pitying look.

“She was painting and just…dropped dead. Heart attack, the mortician said”, Roman murmured and Joan felt their heart drop at the words. Crystal had been beautiful, more than just a pretty face in the crowd. She was a wonderful person with a loving heart and smile to light up the darkest room.

“When?”, Joan asked as memories flooded their mind, images of Crystal baking, cleaning, smiling all coming back in waves, crashing over all other thoughts and drowning the bartender in sadness.

“Fifteen years ago”, Roman muttered, feeling his brown furrow at the words.

“And how old is Anthony?”

“Twelve. David adopted him twelve years ago when Logan and I were just starting out as hunters. He was so small. I remember Logan picking him up”, Roman motioned with his hands as small tears began to bead at the corners of his eyes, hands cupping the air as if he were holding a child, “he said, ‘This is going to be my brother Roman. I want you to take care of him as if he were me as if he were your brother. Because my father won’t be doing any work to raise him. His name is Anthony and I want him to have the best life I can give him.’ It was so cheesy it worked. We were sixteen, stupid and naïve. We couldn’t handle raising a child, but we did and now Anthony is as much Logan’s brother as Logan is his father, mother and closest family member.”

“I guess things do change in twenty years”, Joan mumbled and Roman let out a dry chuckle, lips quirking upwards.

“Yeah. Things have changed. It’s a pity you weren’t here to see them”, Roman muttered as the pair moved off. Talyn’s head poked around the corner of the door, hand beckoning them into the living room where Anthony sat waiting for stories his brother and Roman refused to tell. 

“Tell me ‘bout when Logan learned to shoot”, Anthony said happily and Roman chuckled at the fond memories. Joan looked at Anthony with as much warmth as they could muster, taking a seat on the white couch with the boy cradled next to them. 

“Logan and Roman learned how to use a pistol when we were eight. I didn’t learn until I was twelve, but I assumed that you two kept training since you’re both hunters now”, Joan said, making Roman nod as he took a seat in the large green chair that David usually took. 

“Where’s your father?”, Roman asked, looking around the room for the elderly man.

“Upstairs in bed. He caught a cold and Logan’s out getting medicine. Back to the stories”, Anthony said quickly and Joan chuckled at the small being’s insistence on the sharing of memories. Joan began to weave the tales, eyes lighting up as words spilled forth from the recesses of their mind. Stories flowed freely as Anthony sat near the bartender, eyes wide as he listened to Joan’s words, rooted to the couch even as the sky began to darken, sunlight no longer shining on the road and turning the pebbles in glittering jewels. Roman smiled as another story was woven, this time of the first time Logan hurt himself. Roman remembered the day well he could practically hear it, smell it, feel it. Logan’s soft cries, hiccupping as tears trailed down puffy red cheeks, blood leaking from a gash in his calf. Roman’s hands steadying the smaller boy as he cried into his shirt, Joan wrapping gauze around Logan’s leg tightly. It had hurt them all to see one of their group injured; Joan’s broken arm, Logan’s scraped knees, Roman’s…well, pretty much anything Roman did when he was young ended with him losing at least a quarter inch of skin from some part of his body.

“I think we should get you two back to my place. It’s getting pretty dark and I’m sure Logan will be around tomorrow”, Roman murmured, standing from the green chair, eyes focused on the window displaying various tones of blue, pink, orange and purple. The hues stretched far across the sky, blending into one another in a picturesque moment that only those on the hill would be able to witness properly. If Crystal were here…if Crystal were here she’d paint it so wonderfully it’d look like a colored photograph. 

“Already?”, Anthony whined, voice high as he gripped Joan’s shirt and coat for dear life, eyes wide and mouth pouty. It was obvious the boy was enjoying their company, that much was to be assured. Joan ruffled Anthony’s wild, fluffy black locks, chuckling as they did while Anthony’s hand swatted at theirs. “Stop that”, Anthony complained, pushing Joan’s hand away with a grumpy pout that made his cheeks puff up, arms crossed over his chest as if daring the bartender to try again.

“You’re so cute”, Joan groaned softly, reaching out for another attempt when Anthony pushed his hand away, refusing the advance with haste.

“Stop, only Lo can do that”, Anthony growled a little and Roman chuckled, obviously used to the small boy’s antics.

“Indeed. Tell Logan I dropped by with two friends and that we’ll be back tomorrow”, Roman said, a smile spreading over his face and head tipping as he turned from the couch, heavy boot connecting with the wooden floor as he stepped out of the living room. Joan stood, holding a hand out as Anthony pushed himself off the couch, small hand gripping the large one as his legs wobbled a little, disuse getting the better of them. Talyn let out a small coo of happiness at the cute sight as they got out of the red chair, turning and walking out after Roman quickly after, eyes focusing on the door as the other bartender followed their lead. Anthony tugged on Joan’s sleeve a little, face blushing red as the bartender sunk to the ground, legs bent to support their weight. Anthony looked up from the floor, dark eyes finding Joan’s before a smile spread across the boy’s face. The boy turned around, running back into the living room as Joan stayed crouched, shocked the boy had run from them. Roman watched, Talyn by his side, hand on the brass doorknob already turned and ready to leave the Lilac house.

“Take this with you”, Anthony said as he ran out of the living room, a piece of paper clutched to his small chest, flapping wildly in the small rush of wind. Anthony stopped in front of Joan, clasping the paper in both hands before sticking them out for the bartender to take. Joan gave him a confused smile before taking the paper and looking it over. Three faces smiled back at them, short gangly arms slung around small shoulders as dark and sandy hair flapped in the wind. Joan felt their heart plummet at the picture, or more specifically the people in the picture. The signature that stood in the bottom of the picture was barely legible, but they could tell who had painted this. Crystal Lilac, what a woman. With only a paintbrush and a sheet of yellowed paper, she had captured the three boys youth in one, color-filled painting.

“This…this is us”, Joan murmured, hand coming up from the picture to clasp their mouth, tear beginning to accumulate at the edges of their eyes.

“Dad told me to keep it a secret when I found it. He told me never to tell Lo about it”, Anthony said, looking down at the floor as Joan raised themselves from their crouched position, straightening as they wiped their eyes, driving the tears away before they had a chance to descend down their cheeks. Anthony didn’t seem to notice this, eyes firmly planted on the ground as he swayed back and forth a little, rocking as one might do if nervous, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. Talyn gripped Joan’s arm reassuringly, taking in the slightly distraught appearance of the other bartender before tugging the taller back to their senses. 

“Th-thank you”, Joan stuttered out, clasping the dry hand over their mouth while the other pulled the picture to their chest, flattening it out over their heart. Anthony gave the tall bartender a confused glance, eyes finally lifting from the ground to look Joan directly in their watering eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the picture would make you cry, but”, Anthony was cut off as something creaked on the floorboards upstairs, the sound echoing down the stairs and toward the group. “You’d better be going”, Anthony whispered, “my dad won’t like it if he finds out I let strangers…two strangers into the house without his permission.”  
Roman nodded and grabbed Talyn’s arm, tugging lightly for the smaller bartender to follow him out the door, dragging Joan along behind them as they walked out after Roman.

“Thank you”, Joan whispered back as the door shut, silencing their thanks and blocking Anthony form sight.

Roman led the group off the Lilac grounds, taking care to look back, checking on Joan as they trundled along down the hill to his house. The bartender was clutching the picture to their chest, eyes fixed on the ground, stumbling every now and again as the rock underneath their feet loosened and slipped away. Talyn seemed to be better, gripping Joan’s arm, clinging to them as if to reassure them that Talyn was there for them. 

Roman’s house wasn’t nearly as big or grand as Thomas’ or the Lilacs houses, but it was enough to house him and four other people at best. Logan had spent a few nights out there as well. They’d stargaze under the inky black abyss as tiny luminescent silver specks winked down at them from above. It had been so long since that time. The time of Roman growing up from the age of fifteen without parents. The time of Logan spending his free time helping Roman, educating him in basic housework and self-maintenance. The time of the two-spending time, alone with no worries; no parents, no fathers, no strict guidelines. Just them and the midnight sky above them serving as their guide.

The house itself was two stories tall, white paint peeling off greyed wooden panels on the outside to serve as the outer walls. The garden was wild, untamed with weeds sprouting every which way, brown as the dirt that reared them and dead as the wood that surrounded them. There was a distinct lack of color, yet as the sun shone on the dusty windows over the hills the inside of the house was illuminated and a rainbow of color broke through the minuscule red particles that collected on the window. Chairs of all shades, paintings full of wondrous sights, reds and blues, oranges and greens. All the colors dripped to the wooden flooring, spewing life into the dull brown planks. 

“You live here, huh?”, Joan murmured and Roman nodded, a small smile slipping onto his face as he surveyed the house he had called home since he was able to talk. 

“It’s not much, I know. But it’s sturdy”, Roman said after a while, silence falling over the group again as they neared the house. 

“I…this is the house you used to live in when we were younger, right?”, Joan asked as Roman’s calloused hand clasped the dull bronze handle of the front door. Roman stiffened at the mention of his childhood but nodded curtly anyway.

“Yeah, I…I’ve always lived here. Never felt the need to move anywhere else”, Roman murmured softly, pushing the door open with a squeak from the old, rusty hinges. The dim light of the sun shone past him and into the grey hallway, glinting off framed pictures and glossy paintings. 

“When did…when did your parents die?”, Joan asked softly as Talyn walked past the duo and into the kitchen. The sound of water running from a tap secured the knowledge the bartender was looking for something to drink, the sound echoing through the silent house. Roman sniffed, straightened and bit his lip.

“Thirteen years ago”, Roman replied, voice a little harsher than intended. His parent’s death was still a rather sore spot for him and he could feel his soul crying out in pain every time their deaths were mentioned or asked about.

“I…I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Goodness, you’d have been…you were only fifteen”, Joan breathed, hands running over their chin and lips as they tried to grasp the fact that Roman had been orphaned at fifteen.

“You didn’t know. I won’t hold it against you. I wish you’d been here though. After Crystal’s death, a few years before and then mine…we were both wrecks of human beings. We had to lean on each other for support. We couldn’t go to anyone”, Roman whispered, voice a little chocked up as the memories of nights spent crying, hurt and pain pouring out of the two boys as they laid together in torturous silence. 

“You two want a drink?”, Talyn’s voice called from the kitchen and two heads bolted up to look at the lithe bartender. Brown eyes looked from Roman to Joan and back, concern written deep into delicate features. “I’ll take your combined silence as a yes then.”

The bartender disappeared into the kitchen once more, returning with three glasses and moving into the rainbow colored room. With the ease that came with serving drinks on a regular basis, they set the glasses down on a small table and took one for themselves, taking a long drink and sighing at the refreshing liquid. 

“Thank you, Talyn”, Roman murmured as he took one of the glasses, pressing the cool exterior to his lips before downing the contents. The water splashed the back of his throat, drowning the burning sensation of being close to breaking down. 

“Yeah, thanks, Tal”, Joan muttered, taking a seat with their glass and draining the contents until all of the liquid was gone. Roman set his glass down a moment later, clasping his hands together and turning to the pair with a smile.

“Now, for sleeping arrangements”, Roman said and Joan winced a little at the happiness in his voice. It was going to be a long night.

 

Logan groaned as he slid out of the saddle, medicine in hand as he pulled his horse to the stable for the night. He let his memory stretch to the beginning of the week, moving through the day’s activities one at a time before stopping at today. It had been a rough week for all of them and if things continued like this…he’d have grey hairs before he reached forty. 

With a sigh, the elder of the Lilac brothers trampled over grass and rocks, making his way up to the house. The medicine slipped a little in his hand, his grip tightening around the brown bottle as the rocks slipped a little underneath him, loose stones rolling down the hill softly. The sun had set hours ago and Logan could only assume that Anthony would be in bed by now, their fathers coughing the only thing keeping him awake. Sure enough, when Logan entered the house the only sounds within the house were the sounds he made and those his father made. The moon cast an eerie glow in the hallway reminding the hunter of his various nights in the desert with Roman. He wondered if Roman ever looked back on those memories with fondness.

“Logan”, a voice said and Logan jumped, turning quickly and attempting to keep his grip on the medicine bottle. His eyes landed on a sleepy looking Anthony, eyes tired and heavy looking as he stood at the foot of the stairs. He rubbed his eyes, yawning a little before stretching and walking to his older brother. 

“Anthony. You scared me. Have you had dinner?”, Logan asked, voice low and soft as he knelt on the ground and looked his brother over. Anthony nodded and wound his arms around his brother’s neck, bringing the elder’s head towards his chest and squeezing a little. 

“Yeah, I’ve had dinner. Have you?”, Anthony asked and Logan gave him a hesitant nod as he wound his long arms around Anthony’s shoulders and waist, running one hand through the younger boy’s hair absentmindedly. He twirled the strands around his fingers, pulling gently here and there as the pair breathed in the silence, the understanding, the love. 

“You should go to bed. I will give father his medicine, then I’m going to bed”, Logan said softly and Anthony nodded, burying his face in his brother’s hair, soft brown strands tickling his nose as the scent of sweat, dirt, and sand poured off the older man. Pictures of canyons, trees, and the desert filled his mind as the scent swirled through his consciousness, body relaxing into his older brother’s grip. Logan pushed himself up, grabbing Anthony softly and pulling the boy to his chest. With minor effort Logan pulled the boy up and carried him up the stairs, vaguely aware that Anthony was now playing with his hair, hat abandoned on the floor behind them. Logan moved quietly to Anthony’s room, slipping the boy off his body and onto the bed. He turned and stopped as something tugged at his coat.

“Come back, please”, Anthony pleaded softly and Logan couldn’t say no to those innocent, doe eyes. Logan nodded, pressed a loving kiss to his brother’s temple and left to give their father his medicine. 

His father’s room was in between his own and Anthony’s, decorated with paintings Logan’s mother had painted. Visions of beauty from their property and all over the town. The Green, the hills, the trees, the bar in its early stages. All had a special painting, framed with a different frame and kept in certain places around David Lilac’s room. If even one went missing, David would know. Logan stepped into his father’s room to the smell of paper, ink, and paint. Even after all these years, the smell of oil paint hung in the air, staining the pure scent of knowledge, tainting it with sadness and longing. It was insufferable, so much so that David was almost never in the room, choosing instead to sleep on the couch in the living room, no matter how bad it was for his back or posture. 

“I have your medicine”, Logan muttered, pulling the wooden chair that sat by the side of the Queen-sized bed. The small brown bottle was uncapped and the spoon taken from beside the bed while David wheezed and moaned.

“No”, the old man panted out, growling a little as his son barely looked at him, instead he was more interested in filling the spoon with the right amount. 

“Yes. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can retire to the couch in the living room”, Logan said, eyeing his father briefly before putting the bottle down and holding his hand under the spoon. Logan lent forward, body tilting closer to his father. David gave the medicine in his son’s grasp an evil look and pushed himself back, an idea coming to his mind. 

“I’ll take it if you promise me you’ll marry before the next new moon”, David bargained, knowing he’d be smirking and looking his son over smugly if he could. Logan stopped trying to force the medicine, body moving away from the man as he looked down at the medicine in his grasp. 

“Father, your bargain is petty. Would you really sacrifice your health to see me wed?”, Logan asked, knowing the answer that was to come. 

“Of course. You need to be married. You’re twenty-eight my boy. You’re no spring chicken anymore and I’d rather you marry and stay here than go hunting and get hurt.”

“People need me.”

“I need you.”

“You want me to wed so you don’t have to worry about the farm getting taken.”

“I know you’ll do the Lilac name proud, m’boy.”

Logan stood up, sighing at the fight he couldn’t win. He thought it over, the new moon was at least a month from now, happening only last night, so he’d have a month to see if Thomas was worthy or not. Or…or he could trick his father. Lie about it. Not promise him anything and see how far he got on that. The thought made his stomach turn, but there was only so much he could do. He’d see if by the next new moon Thomas was worthy to be someone he could call husband, if not…if not he’d tell his father the truth, that Thomas just wasn’t right and that he’d keep trying. Keep looking for someone, no matter their past.

“You have a deal”, Logan said finally and David gave him a smile, opening his mouth and allowing his son to give him the medicine he so desperately needed. David’s face twisted in disgust, but he swallowed the liquid and said little else than a good night as Logan departed the room. 

Logan stopped by his own room, taking off his shoes and coat before grabbing a book of fairy tales and heading back to Anthony’s room. He opened the door quietly, careful not to awaken the boy more than he already was. The elder of the two settled onto the bed, pulling his younger brother into his lap and allowing the boy to nuzzle the top of his head into Logan’s chin. Logan opened the book of fairy tales and began to read in the softest, calmest voice he could muster. The words flowed smoothly from his mouth, painting pictures with vivid colors under Anthony’s eyelids. He didn’t know when he’d closed his eyes, but now he was far more concerned with the tales than anything as trivial as eyelid movements. Within the span of a few minutes, the younger was out cold. Logan set the book down, dropping his glasses on top of it before snuggling down into the bed, eyes falling shut as he embraced the darkness. 

 

Patton woke up with his face pressed against the bar, sunlight streaming through the dirty windows to his left and shining down onto his face. A small pool of saliva had formed around his mouth and he couldn’t remember succumbing to the dark abyss that called to many once the moon had risen. With shaky hands he clasped his head, memories slowly flooding back to him in sequential order; Talyn’s bar, the journey, Joan, Virgil, Thomas…Logan. Logan!

Patton shot up looking around quickly before grabbing his gear and beginning to sprint for the door. He reached the handle and jiggled it a little, confusion clouding his mind when he realized the door was locked.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, a rough voice asked, harsh and gravelly from alcohol or lack of sleep Patton did not know. Patton spun to the source, eyes scouring the dimly lit bar for the origin of the voice, finally finding a black-clad figure. A hat rested atop their head, shadows covering their face while they relaxed back in a chair, feet resting in large, heavy boots atop one of the many wooden tables. 

“Virgil?”, Patton asked and the figure sighed, feet dropping to the ground heavily while one hand came to rest on the table. Virgil stood slowly, using the hand on the table to lift himself up while his pistols and knife jingled a little under his large coat.

“I asked where you were going, not what my name is”, Virgil grunted softly, standing to his full height and stretching his back, small cracks making him wince as the vertebrae popped. Within three strides he was standing in front of Patton, hat tilted back a little so the bartender could see his face, grey bags darker from the lack of sleep the night previous.

“I…Are you okay?”, Patton asked and Virgil’s eyes flicked to one of the windows. There was a gunshot and the outlaw sighed, drawing his pistol and motioning for Patton to give him a second. Virgil opened the door roughly and stuck his arm out, firing his pistol out into the desert. There was silence, another shot from the desert to them and then Virgil closed the door, locking it promptly afterward.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired from warding off these stupid outlaws. Idiots who think they can get a free drink while Joan’s away”, Virgil muttered, turning from the door to Patton and motioning for the man to take a seat at the bar.

“Has it been like that all night?”, Patton asked, voice a little softer and kinder in the light of this new information. 

“A little. Mostly just a shot or two fired every hour or so. Nothing major like breaking in here, but I wouldn’t put it past them in the long run”, Virgil growled, taking a seat next to the Akers town man, eyes closing over as he tried to fight off sleep. 

“I…I could make a few drinks and serve them up. I’m a bartender too”, Patton murmured and Virgil cracked one eye open, looking the man over before closing it and sighing. 

“I guess that’d be alright. But you’d have to do things how Joan does them. Joan doesn’t give people back their money if they pay too much and they have a certain way of making their drinks. I can help out, guard you and that, but you’ll need to be on your toes in case someone tried to hurt you and I can’t help you out”, Virgil explained. Patton nodded, taking in the outlaw’s words and swallowing. This place would be nothing like his little bar back in Akers where everyone knew everyone and there was never any fighting. Outlaws would be harder to handle…but Virgil looked like he was at the end of his sanity.

“I can do it. Just give me some warning on who to look out for”, Patton mumbled, hand cupping his chin as he rested his elbow on the bar.

“Can do”, Virgil said as he stood, sighing a little as he walked to the door. He unlocked it and looked back at Patton. 

“You’re absolutely sure about this?”, Virgil asked, eyes once again roaming over the bartender who was now standing, ready to move behind the bar. Patton nodded, face a picture of determination and concentration. The bartender set his hat down on the other side of the bar, hands reaching for alcohol and glasses as Virgil sighed and opened the door. “Bar’s open!”, the outlaw cried into the wilderness as a shot was fired into the air. There was a yell from the desert and Virgil stepped back inside, moving to the windows and opening the shutters to let in some rays of sunshine. “Better get ready”, Virgil mumbled as a couple of horses neighed in the distance, a cloud of dust rising from over the hill. Patton gave the outlaw a final nod before the first horse pulled up, the rider disembarking quickly and walking inside, taking a seat at one of the many tables. 

The bar was a mess of outlaws’ minutes after opening and Patton was swept off his feet as people called out for drinks. Change was dropped in large sums onto the bar and Patton tried to keep up his tireless smile. His cheeks were beginning to hurt, feet numbing as the sun began to drift towards the edges of the sky, pinks, and oranges splashing across the baby blue. More than once someone had threatened him after he was unable to answer where the usual bartender, Joan, had gone. The usual customers didn’t appear too pleased that their favorite non-binary was not serving their usuals to them. Virgil had stepped in multiple times but had begun to drift off into sleep at the end of the bar in the stool closest to the stairs, this forced Patton to deal with his own crisis. The first time Virgil didn’t step in Patton had forcefully pushed the outlaw away, face a picture of fear. The next time he figured out he had to be more forceful and by the seventh time he was a natural.

“Where’s Joan?”

“Out.”

“Who’re you?”

“Patton.”

“Why’re you serving?”

“Joan’s not here.”

“You a friend of Joan’s?”

“Kinda.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Feeling’s reciprocated.”

The same words were repeated multiple times, a smile flashed in the customer's direction as the conversation ended abruptly. The outlaw was usually left sitting there in confusion and shock as the sunny man walked away from them, working on a new drink for another rowdy outlaw. Virgil smirked under his hat as he followed Patton with his eyes. The man had learned fast how to deal with these people, how to tend to them and work with them through all their faults and insults. It was amazing how quickly the Akers town bartender had fallen into the role that Joan had left to help his friend. His friend…Logan. 

Virgil sighed and pulled his crossed arms in closer to his chest. Logan Lilac. The name that had haunted his dreams for the past few nights, brown eyes like hot coffee behind sun covered glasses. Why was he so fixated on this man? They barely knew each other and yet…yet…here he was. Imagining this man with his sharp features, his coffee eyes, his soft hair and shining glasses. They’d barely spoken, barely met and he was already feeling something for this man. Something he’d never admit felt so similar to something outlaws were forbidden from partaking in. 

The outlaw growled softly, eyes closing as he swallowed. He needed to speak to the hunter, talk with him, be with him. He needed to get over this man, this…crush. This would only be detrimental to his line of work and Thomas…Thomas…Virgil felt his shoulders rise, anger twisting through his bloodstream. He couldn’t let that no good snake in the grass marry the Lilac man, hurt the hunter before Virgil figured out how to get rid of these…feelings. 

With a sigh Virgil stood and took his leave, making his way up the stairs to his boss’ office. The door creaked as he pushed it open eyes lingering on the exposed oak wood before he entered. The light was off, room illuminated by the sun as it was setting, but it was easy enough to navigate the room even with the shutters down. The outlaw moved around the room to his boss’ desk, sitting in the chair and looking around. Something caught his eye. A sparkle in the dark and gloom.

The outlaw stood and walked over to the sparkle, realizing the glint had come from a handle. It was small, painted brown over bronze and would indistinguishable from the lamp that hung on the wall above it, most overlooking it as just another part of the aforementioned lamp. The round handle wasn’t twistable so Virgil tugged it softly, hear a small click and pulled a little more. A small drawer pulled out with the handle, no wider than nine inches and no longer than twelve. It rested in the wall about seven inches deep and was home to a small leather book, a pouch of what Virgil assumed to be money and a rolled up piece of paper. 

Virgil took the objects out and sure enough, the pouch did indeed house money. The outlaw laid the objects on the desk, taking a seat in his employer’s chair as he unrolled the paper and took a look at it. It was a painting of a small family; a middle-aged woman with brown hair sat in a white chair, the center of the picture, behind her stood a middle-aged man also sporting brown hair, in front of the woman sat two boys both smiling widely. The youngest seemed to only be a toddler, held in his brother’s arms, his dark hair swept to one side. The older was holding his brother tightly, glasses perched on his nose as he looked out of the painting. There was a signature at the bottom that Virgil couldn’t make out along with a black flower of sorts, heavy in tiny four-petal flowers, a lilac, Virgil supposed. 

The book was by far the most interesting of the objects. A piece of leather warped around crisp, slightly yellowed, pages. The pages themselves seemed bound, but the leather was more like protection, not attached to the pages in any way. There was a bow made of a thin strip of leather wrapped around and tied in a bow, this seemed to keep it all together. Virgil pulled the bow out and flipped the leather off, exposing the clean pages underneath. With a delicate touch, the outlaw flicked the first page away to reveal numbers. Columns of numbers and names that must be the other employees. A stain of red along with one name caught the man’s eyes and he brought the pages closer to inspect it. 

' _August 1st 16—,  
Jeffrey Coleman – died in a gunfight with Logan Magenta and Roman Prince in Smithton. Seek new employee._ '

Virgil’s eyes scanned the rest of the numbers, a frown settling on his face as he looked over the names. Most of the outlaws in the log were dead, but in this, they were still alive until he found another red mark.

' _December 21st 16—,  
Johnson, Stevenson, Smithson – died in a gunfight with Logan Magenta and Roman Prince in Rockwell. Seek new employees._ '

' _January 31st 16—,  
Boone, Lawrence, Clay – died in a gunfight with Logan Magenta and Roman Prince in Johnsville. Seek new employees._ '

' _June 24th 17—,  
Lorne – gaoled due to Logan Magenta and Roman Prince. Seek new employee._ '

Virgil stared at the next page, filled with red marks that became scratchier as if the writer had become angrier the more he wrote, until finally, in big cursive letters that took up the entire page –

' _Logan Magenta and Roman Prince must be eliminated._ '

A shiver ran down Virgil’s spine as he flipped over a couple of pages, more yellowed pages full of columns until something different caught his eye. A small, pathetic drawing of a man with glasses accompanied with a drawing of the same calibre of a man with a tiny crown above his head, stuck in between that page than the one before it was a newspaper clipping depicting Magenta and Prince atop their horses, a large grin spread across Prince’s face. Virgil traced Logan’s glasses with one finger before turning the page and taking in a map of Akers town, red circle scratched around a house atop a hill with the name ‘Lilac’ written underneath. 

The next couple of pages were left blank before the writing returned, small notes written in black on a seemingly daily basis with details on the Lilac’s, their property, the worth of the property, Logan’s hobbies, and more. There were red marks here and there, crossing out words or phrases and making corrections on different things. Nothing too eye-catching, but now Virgil had proof if he ever needed it. 

The outlaw was just about to close the book when a page, that seemed to have been torn out and messily stuffed back in, fell out onto the desk. There were smudges of ink lining it, one corner completely black due to the stuff. With gentle fingers, Virgil picked the page up, turning it over to study the other side. The corner crumpled in his tight grasp as he read over the page. The page that detailed Thomas Saderson’s exact plans on how he would do what he intended to do all along; how he intended to poison David Lilac until he died, ‘accidentally’ inflict upon Logan Lilac a fatal wound, and finally how he would kill Anthony Lilac – a twelve-year-old boy who had done him no wrong – with his own two hands and make it look like an accident. 

Virgil stuffed the paper back into the book, hiding it within his jacket along with the painting and money. His jaw was clenched tightly, teeth pushed together so hard it hurt, but the pain was the last thing on his mind as he shoved the drawer closed roughly and stomped out of the door. The bar was completely clear, a few stragglers here and there, but no one that Virgil couldn’t have gone with a shot of one of his pistols. Virgil growled from the top of the stairs, gaining their attention as he pulled out his pistol and pointed it as the ceiling.

“Out now”, he growled, voice low and eyes full of anger. Hate radiated off him in waves, eyes molten under his hat. The stragglers were quick to react, out the door as fast as their legs would carry them. Patton gave the outlaw a concerned look, worry clouding his features as Virgil stumbled down the stairs, eyes on the door ahead of him. 

“Virge, what’s wrong?”, the bartender asked as the outlaw passed him. Virgil stopped and glanced at the bartender.

“We’re going to Akers town”, the outlaw said firmly and Patton nodded.


	9. Breakfast And Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two brothers journey to Crow's Ridge, the three amigos head back to Talyn's bar, and blood is taken by a bullet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is a little violent I'll put the warning here: someone gets shot and there is mention of blood, not much but there is a little. 
> 
> Thank you to the commenters from last chapter: Morticiaaddams1, settingitoff, and XxTearfulChildxX. Another round of thanks to I_Live_In_A_Trash_Can, who left kudos on this since the last chapter. 
> 
> Onto the story :D

“You what?”, Logan asked, giving the smaller of the Lilac brothers a confused and somewhat shocked look, eyebrows raising a little at the boy’s words. 

“I said, Roman, came over and-”

“Yes, yes. I heard that, but you let in strangers. That’s dangerous, you know that”, Logan chided, stepping back to the stove as he fried up eggs for breakfast, oil spitting a little under the once transparent liquid that now appeared a milky white. 

“But they were with Roman. Roman would have shot them before they tried anything”, Anthony protested, sitting back in his chair with crossed arms and a pout. He had liked Joan and had told Roman he would tell Logan about their visit.

“They were still strangers, granted if Roman knew them they might have been trustworthy. I just still find it hard to believe you’d let strangers into the house”, Logan muttered, taking the hot pan off the stovetop and beginning to serve up the cooked eggs. Toast laid underneath, a sponge for the oncoming, runny gold that would come from the cooked egg. 

“Roman said they were good people”, Anthony mumbled, taking his plate from the elder and cutting into the egg, smiling a little as the yolk ran out of the pale dome, thick, rich yellow that poured from the egg in a waterfall fashion. The toast soaked up a little of it as Anthony pushed his fork down on the top of the dome, smiling a little wider as more of the rich yellow flowed evenly from the egg. 

“Roman may have said that, but they could have tricked him. I’d prefer if you didn’t invite people in without my consent, because as much as I trust Roman and his judgment I’d prefer to inspect who comes and goes myself”, Logan murmured, eyes shifting from his brother to his food and back up to his brother. Brown flickered with concern behind black-rimmed glasses while dark brown dulled a little with sadness and guilt. 

“You know what’s best, Lo”, Anthony mumbled sadly, eyes stuck to his food as he picked at it guiltily, smile gone. 

“Anthony…I don’t want to be harsh, but…I don’t know if I’ll always be there to protect you. It scares me how easy it would be for someone to attack you because they have Roman or father’s blessing to come inside. I’d rather you know that not everyone is good than have you grow up thinking the world is all sunshine and rainbows”, Logan said, voice soft as he reached out and gently took his younger brother’s hand. Anthony looked up at him and took his hand away, moving off his seat with a sigh and walking to Logan, enveloping the elder in a tight hug. Logan pulled his brother in tightly, reciprocating the gesture with the same amount of love, pain, and guilt. 

“I’m sorry, Lo”, Anthony mumbled and Logan pulled back, taking Anthony’s hands in his own and giving him a look of concern and happiness. 

“It’s alright. Just…be careful when I’m away. Father isn’t getting better anytime soon and I’d hate for anything to happen to you while I was away”, Logan muttered, pulling his brother close and pressing his warm lips against the young boy’s temple. Anthony shivered a little and butted his head softly against his brother’s lips. Logan pulled back and looked the younger in his eyes, smiling before ushering the boy back to his seat. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

Anthony gave his brother a puzzled look, “For what?”

“For our outing today. You still want to learn how to shoot, right?”, Logan asked, chuckling a little as Anthony’s eyes lit up like a fire in the night, sparkling like stars as he pressed his hands to the white tablecloth. His smile had grown wide, eyes fixed on his brother. Logan pointed his fork at the younger boy’s egg and toast. “Eat up.”

Anthony didn’t need to be told twice, practically inhaling the eggs without a second thought and tearing the toast apart. Logan let out a little laugh at the boy’s rapid movements, breakfast gone not a minute later. There was a little yolk on the no longer pristine white tablecloth, but Logan didn’t mind washing it off. He hoped it wouldn’t stain, but it was worth it to see his brother so alive again. 

“Done. Let’s go”, Anthony cried out, running to wash the plate and cutlery, moving as fast as he could to clean up after himself. Logan watched on with a bemused expression, wonder and curiosity filling his eyes as he watched on. Anthony stopped his frantic movements for a second to look at Logan.

“Are you getting ready or not?”, Anthony asked before he moved back to cleaning, eyes dancing with hope and excitement. Logan chuckled, he had to give his brother applause for the effort and change in demeanor. The eggs on his plate were gone in seconds flat, mouth wiped clean and plate washed before his brother knew what was happening.

“You should hurry up, Anthony”, Logan teased lightly as he walked to grab his saddle bag and horse. Anthony watched on in surprise and shock. His brother was fast, he’d give him that, Anthony would have to step up his game. 

“You…you eat like Roman”, Anthony called out as Logan stepped out of the door. 

“You learn how to do that”, Logan called back, laughter in his voice as he moved off to the stables. Anthony finished the dishes quickly, grabbing what he needed and racing out after his older brother. 

Logan was already atop his horse by the time Anthony made it to the stables, his brother’s horse attached to his own as he walked the pair out. Anthony was quick to push himself up and untie his horse from Logan’s, pulling the creature away from the other horse and smiling at his brother. The smile faded as he looked up to the window of their father’s room. 

“What about father?”, Anthony asked quietly and Logan looked back at his brother. 

“I gave him his medicine last night and he should be either well enough to take care of the basic necessities or get another spoonful of the concoction the chemist whipped up”, Logan said softly, eyes moving from his brother to his father’s window and back again, “we should get going, though. The sooner we leave the more time we get together.”

Anthony nodded at his brother’s sound logic and pushed his horse off. Even if he wanted to stay and make sure his father continued to recover, the thrill and happiness he received from being with his brother was more than enough to push thoughts of his foster father out of his mind. The only thing that didn’t make sense to him was how his father could have gotten the sickness in the first place, that exact thought ran through the backs of the brother’s minds as they rode towards the town center, dust clouding behind them. 

The sun moved across the land, daring them to follow in its harsh rays and golden light. Birds called from The Green as they passed it, splashing coming from the river as they turned to it, wading their horses through the rushing stream and out to the other side. Anthony cupped his hands around his mouth, horse stopping as he made an unrealistic bird call. The boy listened, eyes on the sky and ears sharp, waiting for another freedom seeker to return the call. Logan looked back, horse stopping as he watched his brother with interest. A small smile pricked the ends of his lips, turning them upwards as he too cupped his hands, letting out a more realistic sound, however, broken it might have been. Anthony looked at his brother, the sun rising in front of them and causing the elder to gain a somewhat ethereal glow. Logan looked back at him with a smile and Anthony could only smile back as bird calls filled the air, feathered beasts taking flight into the baby blue, sun-stained sky. 

They rode on, stopping briefly for refreshments and rest as the sun bore down on them, hot rays burning their insides and scorching their eyes. The time dragged by, falling through the cracks in the day as they rode, sand rushing up behind them in clouds. Crow Ridge loomed up out of the sand, black skeletal ruins jutted out of the glistening brown like broken, scorched ribs the heart and lungs of which had been just as burned, turned to ash in the conflagration of myths passed. 

“Want to practice on the mill?”, Logan asked, turning in his saddle to look back at Anthony. The younger of the two nodded, pushing his horse closer to his brother’s and then further, taking the lead as the blackened sand turned under steel horseshoes. Black, charred wood turned to dust under hoof as the still smoke-filled air settled heavy in their lungs. They trekked to the old schoolhouse. The mill was where it should have been, rusty blades dull in the sun, creaking ever so slightly as the wind ran through the metal construct. “I’ll tie up the horses, you get practicing.” 

Logan passed Anthony one of his pistols, the smaller of the three he carried on his person. Anthony slid off his horse as Logan grabbed the stallion’s reins, pulling the horse along behind his mare and dismounting close to the fence. Anthony pulled out his small pistol, checking over the firearm then looking between his and his brother’s. His own looked more like a cheap imitation, dark metal covering the intricate workings while the leather that wrapped around the base seemed much faker and darker than Logan’s. Logan’s pistol was, as to be expected of someone that brought in outlaws for a living, top of the line. Shining silver metal carved with intricate designs and burned with his initials. 

“How much d’you pay for this?”, Anthony mumbled, turning it over and putting his own away, taking the firearm in both hands and holding it up to the sun, watching as the sunlight melted into the grooves and changed the metal into melted gold. 

“A small fortune. It’s one of the better ones I own, but I don’t use it as much. For what it’s worth its rubbish”, Logan murmured, tying the horses up and setting out some water for them which they drank gratefully. 

“Why’d you get it then? If it’s so bad, why don’t you return it or sell it?”, Anthony asked, turning the firearm over and running his fingers over the warm metal. 

“First off, I didn’t mean to get it, Roman go it for me. Second, since Roman got it for me I’m not just going to pawn it off on someone else”, Logan said, eyes wandering to the rusty blades as he moved over to his brother’s side. Sand danced around them as the wind picked up, black and red swirling under their feet, pushing past them and up the hill. 

“Why did Roman get you a pistol?”, Anthony asked, ice hidden in the depths of his mumbled question. 

“We’d just finished our first big job. Killed a man named Jeffrey Colesman in a gunfight and earned a large sum for our troubles”, Logan said, picking the gun gently out of his younger brother’s hands and cocking it towards the windmill. He pulled the trigger and the duo heard a small clang of metal hitting metal. Logan dropped the pistol back into Anthony’s waiting hands with a small smirk on his face. 

“Can I…can I hear more about your jobs?”, Anthony asked, looking up at his brother, who nodded softly and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. Anthony cocked the gun and fired at the mill, trying again as Logan began to talk. Stories of famous outlaws and minor thieves getting their comeuppance flowing easily as Anthony tried again and again to hit one of the rusty blades. The sun moving high overhead as finally one of the bullets hit the metal. Anthony let out a cry of happiness and Logan clapped slowly, a smile adorning his face. 

 

Roman yawned and turned over in his bed, mumbling softly as he opened his eyes and tried to swat the sunlight that was streaming through his window away. It was a fruitless venture, but he tried it regardless only to have his hand fall heavily onto his chest. He licked his lips and blinked wearily as the world came into focus around him. His room, his bed, his friend, his chair…Joan? There they were standing at his door with a small smile on their face. 

“Finally awake, huh?”, they asked, looking down at Roman with a smirk. Roman groaned and turned over, pulling his pillow over his head and mumbling into his sheets. Joan just rolled their eyes and made a move towards the bed, arms crossed over their chest. “Get up. Tal’s making breakfast for us and I’ll eat all of yours if you don’t.”

“Why’s Talyn making breakfast?”, Roman asked through a yawn, pulling his head out from under the pillow and looking back at the bartender. 

“They got up before us, something about wanting to leave so they can check on their bar and they were nice enough to make us some before they left. So, get up and get out there to thank them before they leave”, Joan growled, making Roman start a little and look back at them.

“Gee, you two sure are close”, Roman muttered under his breath as he rolled out of his bed and stood up, stretching and listening contentedly to the popping of his joints. 

“We’re friends, that’s all. Now hurry up, I’ll be leaving shortly after to make sure my bar’s still there”, Joan said before disappearing out of the door and closing it behind them. Roman grunted softly as he got dressed, pulling his coat over his shoulders and attaching his pistols to his sides. 

“Never know when you’ll need to defend someone”, Roman said with a smirk, reaching for his door and opening it swiftly, smiling as he heard laughter from the kitchen. He walked into the light-yellow room and sighed as the smell of cooked apples filled the air, accompanied by cinnamon and sugar. His mouth watered a little as he took the seat across from Joan, looking over at the bartender’s plate and eyeing the apple mixture that sat in a small bowl next to some toast. Joan was munching on a piece of toast happily, eyes glancing around the room, moving from the mahogany cabinet to the china plates on the shelf near where Talyn was scrubbing a small pot in the sink. 

“I can do that for you. If you two need to leave, I can clean up”, Roman offered and Talyn looked over, smiling a little at the man before going back to scrubbing. 

“It’s fine, Roman. Thank you for letting us stay the night”, Talyn said, putting the pot down and walking over to grab a cloth covered tray. 

“Have you eaten yet?”, Roman asked and Talyn nodded softly, setting the tray down in front of Roman and taking the cloth off. Roman’s eyes widened at the large amount of food. Jam and apple in twin bowls, toast still warm on a plate to the side, a glass of water, some scrambled eggs in a shallow bowl, and silver cutlery set to the side of the tray, a small white napkin stuck out under the silver utensils. “How…how long did this take you?”

“A little while. You like it?”, Talyn asked, tucking the cloth under one arm and heading back to the pot.

“Yeah…yeah this is amazing”, Roman complimented, looking at Joan who gave him a smirk. 

“You should have seen them when we had guests over who slept in. I remember one time you made a banquet for five people”, Joan said, relishing in the fact that Roman like Talyn’s cooking. 

“Oh, hush you. It wasn’t anything too big and it was mostly raw”, Talyn murmured, scrubbing the pot a little harsher and hiding a smile. 

“But it was amazing and now Roman knows. You’ll come visit Tal, right Roman?”, Joan said giving Roman an icy smile. Roman nodded and swallowed before digging into the food. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely visit, especially if you give me food like this”, Roman said, swallowing some apple and toast with a smile. Talyn turned and flashed him a small smile of their own at Roman. Joan coughed a little and offered up a small smirk, humming lightly before they stood and walked over to the other bartender. 

“Move. I’ll finish you go get ready”, Joan muttered and Talyn moved out of the way, walking past Roman and to their room after offering the hunter an eye roll. Roman chuckled a little and continued to eat. 

“I’ll come with you two. Might as well, am I right?”, Roman said as he finished up the last of the food, patting his stomach softly and smiling as the food sat comfortably. 

“Sounds good to me, you can come and see where we work and live. We’ll drop Talyn off first though, they’ve been away from their bar for longer than I have”, Joan muttered and Roman nodded, standing and taking the tray over to where Joan was. 

“Leave it out and I’ll finish it off tonight”, Roman said with a smile. Joan gave him a nod and moved away from the sink, wiping their hands on a towel and walking towards the doorway as Roman began to fill the bowls and glass with water. 

“I’ll get freshened up a bit and we can head out”, Joan said, leaving the room as Roman hummed lightly in response. Roman dried off his hands and walked to his bedroom, gathering his knife and a few extra bullets before exiting his room and walking to the front door. Talyn and Joan were already waiting there for him, chatting softly as Joan leaned on the wall. 

“Ready?”, Roman asked as he looked between the two. Talyn gave him a smile while Joan gave him a smirk, pulling off the wall and shuffling out of the way of the door. 

“After you, my liege”, Joan said, bowing deeply as Talyn chuckled. Roman rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

“I haven’t heard that nickname in ages”, Roman muttered, turning the handle and holding the door open or the other two before closing the door and walking down the path to the gate with the two outsiders. They three walked down the hill sun high in the sky as they neared the bar, horses in sight. Roman sighed as he remembered he’d lent his horse to Patton, maybe he’d let the two leave without him. 

“Roman, you alright? You look a little down”, Talyn said and Roman shook his head. 

“I lent my horse to a friend, so I won’t be able to come with you”, Roman sighed before Joan chuckled, looking down at him from atop his horse.   
“You can ride with me and we’ll just bring you back. I don’t mind riding home alone and I have my pistol in case I get jumped”, Joan said with a smile. 

“Sounds good, I guess. So, I ride with you. Stay a night and come back tomorrow”, Roman planned out his trip to Joan’s. Talyn chuckled a little and set off, leaving the two in the dust. 

“You coming or what?”, they called back as they sped off, James neighing lightly as his brown mane whipped Talyn’s hands as the laughed a little, covering their mouth with their bandanna and looking out into the sun-drenched desert. Joan called out for them to wait as Roman jumped up behind them, gripping Joan’s shoulders and calling out for Joan to ‘follow that horse’. 

Joan’s mare whinnied as they slowed down, dust rising on a ridge a little way off. The group stopped to look at the dust cloud moving fast through the desert. 

“What’s that?”, Talyn asked softly, eyes focused on the cloud as it slowed a little, two horses moving out of it and stopping before heading off again a second later. 

“Looks like it’s just two travelers, like us”, Joan murmured, kicking their horse and setting off once more as the black and brown horses moved away from them. 

 

Virgil kicked Di harder, not caring as Patton let out a screech behind him, his own horse struggling to keep up with Di’s speed. Di was at her limits as well, but Virgil didn’t care. The anger within him was boiling, swirling, pulsing through his veins and infecting his heart. It screamed in his head and made the world around him turn red. If he could have, he’d have stopped himself. He’d seen this anger before, not once or twice but multiple times. It was detrimental, suicidal thinking that drove outlaws and innocents alike into a murderous rage. Part of him wanted to stop Di, slow her and show her that he was just trying to help someone. The rest of him, the majority of him that burned with the swelling anger wanted, no…needed to get to Akers town and fast, no matter the cost. 

Patton screamed behind him, calling for him to wait as dust and sand was thrown into the bartender’s face. His horse reared to the side a little, finally catching up to Di and Virgil. Patton was just about to yell at him, anger coursing through him at the prospect of being left behind, when he saw the rage in Virgil’s eyes. The outlaw’s jaw was clenched tightly, cheeks red as the blood simmered behind the skin and lips ran taunt against a snarl. His eyes held a fury like nothing the bartender had seen before; cold as the desert night, yet hot as the blue fire of a bonfire. Patton clammed up, swallowing back his words and turning his face to look at his horse’s mane. The stallion, Cameron by name, was puffing slightly, muscles rippling under a silky brown coat. Nothing like Virgil’s sleek black mare, with her perfect physique and well-toned body, perfect for such journeys. 

The sun was beating down on them, warming Patton and the icy dread that had curled up in his stomach. The day was half over and he had yet to talk to Virgil about the trip to Akers town. They’d traveled the night away and Patton was beyond tired at this point, head and eyes screaming for rest while his body felt like lead in the saddle. He’d never done this much cantering before in such a short amount of time, and he’d be damned if he ever did a trip like this again, but Virgil’s anger, his determination, his fighter spirit got to Patton. It cooled the rays of sun, melted the dread and filled him up with a newfound fire, a blaze of his own. Akers town was in sight and in a rush of stupid, foolhardy excitement Patton pushed Cameron to the town’s entrance, leaving Virgil in the dust. That was the first thing, and only thing, Virgil remembered of the entire trip.

They pulled their horse's reins, slowing to a walk as they reached the bar. The town was clear of people, most likely due to the unbearable heat that had set upon the desert. Outside of the bar, the trough had been dried, water completely evaporated in the burning heat leaving nothing but exposed dirty metal. Virgil’s eyes darted from the bartender to the hill, narrowing at the Lilac house before he let out a cry and jammed the heels of his boots into Di’s sides. Di shot off, black mane rippling in the wind as sand was blown back, hot wind pushing the luscious hair to the side. Patton followed, icy dread filling his stomach once more as the pair journeyed up the hill. The horses struggled on the rocks, unused to the unstable terrain, but both persevered. Hooves clattered against the rocks, a spark flying loose as one hit a flint rock. 

The Lilac house stood still, a white towering monster atop dry grass. Virgil pulled Di to a stop, slipping off and racing to the door in record time. He stopped, face red from the heat and anger, worry sinking his heart to his stomach as the door stood ajar. He could hear Patton growling a little in the background as he tied the horses to the Lilac property fence, focused more on the task than why the pair were here. Virgil surged forward, moving past the door and stopping to listen for footsteps of any kind. Soft thuds emanated from upstairs and Virgil pulled out his pistol, reloading the weapon and moving up the stairs as silently as possible. 

The landing above was clear of potential threats, but Thomas was an outlaw boss, there was no way he’d not have head Virgil come in. The outlaw studied the three doors that laid ahead of him; baby blue, navy blue, and peeling white. He crept towards the navy, the furthest from the stairs and the only one with a brass handle, the others holding wooden handles painted with their respective colors. The door creaked open as he twisted the knob, pistol held tight in his grasp. He sniffed and turned away, the room was neat with one bookshelf on the far wall, a white windowsill, a small desk opposite the oak bed and a large trunk at the foot of the bed. The door was closed quietly behind him and Virgil made his way to the white door as he heard a sound downstairs, most likely Patton. He wished the man wouldn’t make so much noise, but it was too late now.

The door was heavier, but there was a succession of coughs coming from behind it that indicated life. Virgil pushed it open, pistol trained on the only source of life within the confines of the four walls. An old man in a bed, salt and pepper hair splayed across a white pillow. The man looked up at him and Virgil lowered his gun, realizing the old man was David Lilac. Virgil gave the man a soft smile as the man’s eyes moved to the door. The outlaw sighed and moved closer to the bed, David’s eyes widening a little in a pleading way. 

“Sorry, old man. Thought you were someone else.”

“And who, perchance, did you think he was?”, a voice like silk asked from behind the door. Virgil’s eyes widened and he spun around, pain erupting from his side as something tore through his flesh. He smelt gunpowder, heard a cry of alarm and a gunshot, this time further away. His hand touched his side as he felt his body meet wood. He brought his fingers up to his face to look at them. Something wet dripped onto his cheek, but he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it away. Why was his hand red? Why did his side hurt? Why did his side hurt so much?

He let out a scream.


	10. You Wound Me With Your Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton rushes Virgil to the nearest township accompanied by two other riders, meanwhile Thomas and Logan talk after Logan and Anthony's training day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so for those of you who read last times notes you will know that I am doing exams soon which means the dreaded hiatus will appear after this chapter. I know, I know, everyone hates hiatus', but I need to focus on exams until the 17th of November. Which means you guys won't get another chapter until the end of November at latest. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have started this multichapter so close to this time of the year so my bad.
> 
> You guys can rant at me in the comments, I give you permission to do so, especially if another chapter pops up before the 17th of November because that means I'm not putting effort into my studies. 
> 
> Anyway onto the thank you's: thank you to XxTearfulChildxX for commenting on the last chapter, along with the 2 guests who left kudos between now and the last chapter.
> 
> Onto the story and I will warn you it may get a little graphic, but not by much. Enjoy :)

How had this happened? Patton was hiding downstairs, eyes wide, too shocked to move as a blood-splattered Thomas Saderson walked down the stairs, a wide grin on his face. Patton held his breath and prayed that he wouldn’t be found. He’d been halfway up the stairs when he had heard the gunshot and subsequent cry of pain. He heard Virgil’s scream, heard the loud footfalls and hid downstairs behind Logan’s couch. He was thanking his lucky stars he was as lean as he was right now, had he been any musclier he’d have not been able to fit behind the couch. Patton clasped his hands over his mouth as he heard footsteps near the couch, he closed his eyes and almost breathed a sigh of relief as the footsteps faded from earshot. The bartender peeked over the top of the couch carefully and squinted as the retreating figure. He needed to tell Logan about this…after he helped Virgil. The man scrambled out of his hiding spot quickly and ran up the stairs, tripping a few times and hurling himself into the white, ajar door. He dropped to his knees at the sight of Virgil, passed out from blood loss with a bloody hole in his side. 

“P…Patton…”, a voice wheezed out and the bartender lifted his head to look at David Lilac, still immobile in his bed.

“David?”, Patton called out and the man gave him a slight nod.

“Take him…take him and…and warn Logan about Thomas”, David wheezed out, sounding as dead as he was looking. Paperwhite skin stretched thin over his skeleton, blue and red veins pale as they stuck out in his skinny frame. 

“Wh-what happened?”, Patton asked, feeling his stomach turn at the sight.

“Thomas…Thomas happened. Get him out of here”, David growled out as pain and cold sweat wracked his body. He shivered as Patton looked down at Virgil, swallowed and took the man his arms, pulling him up and cradling him close.

“I’ll be back”, Patton said, trying in vain to reassure the man. David shook his head a little and gave the bartender a smile. 

“Tell my boys I love them”, the man said softly, eyes closing over as another shot of pain rushed through his system. Patton watched for a second as David’s labored breaths got lighter, but he turned and rushed down the stairs before he could witness anything more. It was as if the world had slowed, birds stopping in mid-air as Patton rushed to the horses. The closest medical facility was in the next town over and that was at least a half day’s ride on the fastest horse. Patton swallowed and looked as Virgil’s unconscious body. He needed to get Virge medical help…but he needed to warn Logan and Anthony. But Virge needed his help first. 

Patton kicked his horse into motion, Virgil’s mare trailing along behind his stallion as Virgil pressed against his back. Patton winced as blood began to seep into his clothes, the warm liquid clung to his skin through his shirt, coat forgotten behind the couch. He swiped a hand back and clung to Virgil’s arm, biting his lip as he forced his horse to go faster. Cameron moved swiftly and Patton found himself coughing as Sand was pushed up into his face, wind whipping his face harshly as the desert heat burned his uncovered head and face. The sun was rising on the horizon when he heard a horse whinny behind him. He glanced back to see to figures atop horseback charging at him. His heart accelerated at their dark clothes and large coats; could they be outlaws? Now was not the time for outlaws. 

Patton growled and tied Cameron’s reins around Virgil’s arm, pushing himself around to glare back. Adrenaline pumped through him as he grabbed one of Virgil’s pistols and pulled back the trigger. He fired and watched as the riders swerved and the sand next to them exploded with a little puff. He grumbled and reloaded quickly, checking that the horse was still on course before firing again, this time hitting a rock a few inches away from one of the horse’s legs. The horse stopped momentarily before the rider at the front kicked it into gear. The world darkened for a second and Patton growled once more as the horses and riders entered a cave. He knew where he was and turned around, grabbing Virgil’s tied arm and untying it. He checked behind him and pushed Cameron to move faster, swerving the stallion and mare to the side of the cave as the two riders and horse behind him began to catch up. Patton reloaded and cocked the gun as they finally caught up slowing a little to ride side by side with Patton and Virgil. The bartender lowered the gun a little, aiming it at the first rider’s head. 

“Don’t shoot, Patton”, the first rider called and Patton blinked, his horse slowing a little as Patton pulled the reins back. Confusion lacing his features as he looked stunned at Roman and Joan atop the horse. 

“What happened?”, Joan asked, looking from Patton to Virgil and finally looking at the dropped pistol. Patton felt a wetness trail down his cheeks and, finally, he let the floodgates open. Tears streamed down his face as Virgil’s body trembled behind him, his own crying causing the movement from the other. 

“Hey, hey now”, Roman said, demounting from the horse and rushing over to Patton, face pinched with worry and concern as his hands gently grasped Patton’s knee, eyes wandering over the bartender to the outlaw behind him. Patton let out a sob and moved a little in the saddle. He wanted to dismount, to hug the hunter, cry into his shoulder and never let go, but he had to worry about Virgil. The outlaw that was passed out on his back with a gunshot wound in his side courtesy of Thomas Saderson. 

“I…I have to …I have to get to Virgil to…to…to”, Patton stuttered, words wet with tears as he tried to tell them what he needed to do. Joan frowned then looked behind them at the end of the cave, a small speck of light shining through the end of the rocky tunnel. 

“You need to get to Smithton, for medical treatment”, Joan mumbled, pushing themselves to the front of the saddle. 

“Y…y-yeah. I need…I need”, Patton sniffled, wiping his tears away with his shirt and dabbing at his eyes. 

“Roman, you take Di. Let’s get Virge out of here”, Joan said, voice firm as they whipped their horse around and kicked the beast into action. Roman pulled himself up onto Di, untying the mare from Cameron and moving off, making sure to stay close to Patton while the other seemed much more focused on keeping the unconscious outlaw upright. 

The four trekked on, stopping briefly every few hours to check on Virgil’s health and wellbeing. Patton had used some water and a portion of his shirt to wash and cover the wound, but they had no idea how to take the bullet out. The sun was setting as they neared the large rock formation, marking the entrance to Smithton. The town loomed above them, sitting atop the hill and shining in the dim light. They raced up the hill, horses panting loudly as the hill began to smooth out into a plateau.

The town itself seemed marginally less welcoming and homely than Akers town. Where Akers town was open Smithton was closed, enveloped with a low wooden fence and extremely hard to get to. Smithton was made up of tall buildings, dusty streets, corrupt officials and shady bars. Wooden buildings with dark colored paint and heavy wood signs. Shallow metal troughs filled with dark water for horses to drink from. If there was another town with medical help that wasn’t a few days ride from here, they would have gone there. 

“Patton, get Virgil to the hospital. We’ll stay outside while he gets patched up”, Joan murmured, eyes on a group of people who were sat outside one of the bars, hands on their pistols as they watched the travelers pass them by. 

“Are you two going to be okay?”, Patton asked, eyeing the group before looking back at Roman and Joan. 

“We’ll be fine. I’m sure a couple of these guys have some price tags on their heads, so if we do end up fighting we’ll have something to pay for the hospital bills with”, Roman said with a small smirk, relaxing back in Di’s saddle. Patton sighed but chuckled a little at the hunter’s attempt to lighten the mood. The outlaw and bartender moved off, horse backing up a little before walking towards the nearest medical facility. Joan followed for a few steps before turning their horse towards the nearest bar that didn’t have people glaring daggers at them out the front, moving swiftly off towards a shady looking establishment. Roman checked over the group before following Joan, Di snorting a little as she carried the hunter towards the darkly painted building. 

The building was tall, three stories so and painted with black and burgundy. The oak shone through in places where the black paint was peeling off, small pieces of said paint crushed within the sand and rocks, tainting the brown and red with flecks of black. There was a trough, rusty and full of brown water out the front, lying just beneath the porch and red-coated railing. Broken chairs and tables lay to one side on the porch, blocking the rest of the porch off from guests and patrons. 

Roman slid off Di, tying the dark mare’s reins to the railing with practiced ease, following Joan’s example as the bartender walked up the stairs and entered the bar. Joan took a seat on the stool that was nearest to the center of the bar, seeing it as a good vantage point should anyone recognize them or Roman. Roman took a seat next to them, choosing to sit closer to the entrance than the stairs. 

“What can I get for you?”, a gruff voice asked and the two looked up into the face of a rough looking female; wild raven hair full of ringlets that cascaded down around her square face, eyes like burning coals behind the brown of her iris’. 

“Two glasses of water, if you’d be so kind”, Roman asked politely. Joan rammed an elbow into his side, causing him to wheeze as the sudden lack of breath and the sudden increase in pain. 

“Water, two. Make it good”, Joan growled at the woman, who nodded and walked off looking more disinterested by the minute. 

“What was that for?”, Roman asked, doubled over in pain, one hand gripping the bar while the other lay firmly over his bruised side. 

“I do the talking. I know how to talk to them, how to get what we want and how to not get killed. You let me talk or you’ll have bruises for days”, Joan muttered under their breath, turning a little and looking over their shoulder at the rest of the bar. The bar was nowhere near as full as their own had been; six patrons in total excluding themselves and Roman. All six were large, imposing figures, seated around the bar at various tables, but never with each other. The roundtables supported multiple glasses and bottles, full of transparent liquids or drained of their contents. 

The only thing that really struck Joan as odd was the large fireplace on the other side of the bar. It had been walled up, but it was still there. Honestly, who would need a fireplace in the desert where the lowest it got was a cool wind at night. The more Joan looked though the more they wondered if the strange addition had a more sinister purpose. 

“I…I’m going outside. Patton won’t know where we are if we…if we don’t tell him. Don’t want him wandering into another bar…or worse”, Roman bit out, still in pain from the elbow to his side. Joan nodded, waving vaguely in the direction of the door with their mouth a little open, contemplation filling their features as they stared at the fireplace. Roman grunted softly and stood, limping a little to the door and turning around as the bartender came back, glasses of water in hand. The return of the imposing woman made Joan return to reality, face turning back to the bar as they looked at the water, a frown marring their lips. 

“Roman, come here for a sec”, Joan grunted out, looking at the water with a curious eye while the bartender walked away from the duo. 

“What is it?”, the hunter asked, taking his seat again and fighting down the hiss from the pain. 

“I want you to stay here a second. I’ll need you to shoot if this water turns out to be anything but water”, the bartender replied, looking through the glass as they held it to their eye, inspecting it before pulling it to their mouth. 

“What do you mean?”, Roman asked, voice wary. 

“I mean it could be poisoned or drugged, or it could be alcohol or something even deadlier”, Joan murmured, tipping the glass back and taking a sip. They pulled the glass away and swallowed, running their tongue over the top row of their teeth. Joan waited for a second before sighing and taking another sip from the glass. 

“I assume that means it’s not deadly”, Roman said and Joan nodded, putting the glass down and standing. 

“Let’s go find your friend then and find out what happened to mine”, Joan murmured taking a few uneasy steps towards the door before walking more briskly out of it and down the steps. Roman followed after downing his water, wiping the excess away with his sleeve before heading off with a small wink in the broad female’s direction. The bartender rolled her eyes but smiled down at her feet as she cleaned up the glasses. 

“So, where did Patton take your friend?”, Roman asked, looking around as he caught up to Joan, who was looking from door to door, searching for any sign of Patton or Virgil. 

“No idea. I guess we wait out here or we go searching”, Joan offered softly, hand moving under their coat to their pistol as the group of people outside of the bar a little way off glared at the duo. 

“Stay here, I’ll find Patton and Virgil”, Roman muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and tilting his head down a little, eyes narrowing as he pulled his old acting tricks out. He made his body language mimic that of someone who was on their way to murder someone. He squared his shoulder, stretched his neck, tilted his hat, and walked with purpose, eyes narrowed and judging as he walked down the empty street. Joan shook their head and sighed a little as they sat down on the steps, taking out a small blade and twirling it in their hand. It was going to be a long night, the bartender thought as they eyed the medical facility across from them where Patton’s horse was tied up and drinking.

The first place Roman visited was a large building, which he was promptly kicked out of after he asked about Virgil Hunterson. Apparently, they wouldn’t allow the outlaw to be treated due to his status as an outlaw. Roman hissed curses under his breath as he walked out. They’d really refuse to offer help to a dying man just because he was an outlaw. Surely, they could see how wrong that was, but…Roman stopped on his way to the next stop. Maybe Patton had used a different name, lying wasn’t his strong point, but in light of having someone’s death on his hands, the bartender may have done something he’d never have had to do before…lie. 

Roman checked six more places, exactly like the first with similar results. The hunter finally returned to Joan, slumping down with a tired sigh beside the bartender. Joan leaned back a little on the steps and took a drink from a glass full of clear, amber liquid, letting out a small grunt accompanied by a smile. 

“That was a fruitless venture”, Roman grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as Joan let a chuckle resonate from them. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You walked right past your own horse and completely wasted two hours of your time”, Joan said, sniggering a little as an angry blush rushed to Roman’s cheeks.

“You...I…argh”, Roman let out a frustrated growl, collapsing onto the stairs in a boneless fashion. Joan laughed at this, a little drunk from the alcohol running through their system. 

“You moron”, Joan chuckled, voice soft as Roman let out another groan and covered his face with his hands. It was at this point when Joan cracked up in laughter at Roman’s utter hopelessness, the alcohol causing the bartender to react more than they usually would. Joan’s laughter echoed through the street, triggering people to turn around at the sound. Roman didn’t do anything, for once keeping his mouth shut and allowing the bartender’s happiness to pour over him in waves. The laughter began to die and at this point, Roman pulled his hands away and looked up at the darkening sky above. It felt like ages since he’d sat still. Not riding a horse, not firing his pistol, not asleep or eating or drinking or talking. Just listening with bated breath as the world moved on around him. It was peaceful like this, quiet and tranquil. 

“There you two are”, a voice said and Roman lifted his head off the stairs, giving Patton a small wave as Joan let a smile slip onto their face. 

“Hey’a Patton. How’s Virge doin’?”, Joan asked, voice a little slurred as alcohol sloshed through their system. Patton sighed and shook his head, looking over at Roman for some sympathy or support but finding only amusement in Roman’s eyes as the man looked up at Joan, hand clasped over his mouth to mask a small chuckle. 

“Virgil is doing better now. Did you two find somewhere to stay?”, Patton asked, sighing a little and rolling his eyes as Joan attempted to stand, their legs more like water than the bone, veins, and muscle they should be. 

“Sure did. Voila”, Joan said as they turned around and gestured to the establishment. Patton clasped a hand over his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his spectacles before swallowing, sighing and grabbing Joan’s arm. 

“I’m taking you inside to sleep and when you wake up we’re taking about your alcohol tolerance levels. Honestly, you should know. You’re a bartender”, Patton muttered as he dragged the other bartender inside, poking his head back to look Roman in the eyes. “Roman, I need you to go check on Virge in the morning. He’s not stable at the moment, but he’ll need someone to ground him tomorrow and I’ll be looking after Joan so…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle him. He’s just from out of town so I doubt he’ll be too unstable”, Roman murmured, taking Joan’s glass and sipping from what was left of the liquor. 

“Oh, right. You don’t know. Virge is an outlaw”, Patton said watching with a little disgust and disdain as Roman spat the drink out with wide eyes. 

“He’s a what?”

Logan laughed softly as Anthony’s face pressed against his arm. The younger of the Lilac brothers had passed out on their way home and although it was a nuisance to have to take care of the boy while he was asleep Logan had to admit his brother was utterly adorable when he was unconscious. The hunter brushed some of Anthony’s dark hair away from his face, soft as new-grown grass. The boy’s face wrinkled up a little, contorting at the touch as his dreams were interrupted. 

“Hush, hush”, the elder whispered as the wind around them slowed to a snail’s pace, comforting warm breezes filling the air instead of the usual hot winds that swept all manner of rocks and sand into the sky, flinging them in the direction of the unlucky passer-by’s faces. The sun hadn’t descended just yet, the pale cobalt blue of the sky still drenched with the white rays of light the sun blessed the world with. 

The only sound for miles upon miles was that of the wind rattling the sand across the barren wasteland they called the desert, and the younger siblings breathing. Even the horse’s hooves had grown silent by comparison to these things, trotting along without a care in the world. Dust blew softly against Logan’s cheeks as he pulled Anthony’s face into his shirt, stopping the dust from disturbing the young boy's sleep. The small rocks scratched his cheeks, wind biting at the exposed skin. 

Akers town loomed over them, shadows cast by the wooden sign swallowing the brothers as they passed beneath it, wary of the suddenly silent township. Logan frowned and fingered the hilt of his pistol, leather covered digits running through the smooth grooves and valleys in the dull metal. He was torn between waking Anthony and leaving the boy be, but he’d need both of his hands should there be a fight. Logan lifted his hand off the pistol, moving his body so he could wake his brother. 

“Logan”, a voice spoke up, shattering the silence and causing Logan to whip around, disturbing Anthony’s rest for a second before the Lilac boy slipped back into the recesses of sleep. 

“Thomas. What’s going on? Where is everyone?”, Logan asked softly as the traveler moved closer, hands clasped behind his back and a concerned frown marring his face. 

“Everyone’s at home. It’s too hot for most people, but when I walked over to your house this fine afternoon I found you had vacated the premises”, Thomas said, voice soft as his eyes wandered over to the sleeping boy at the hunter’s side. “I presume you left for training.”

“You presume correctly. I have indeed been training my brother. He has taken quite the interest in my career. Why are you out here though? If most people are at home as you suggest, should you not also be at home”, Logan murmured quietly as he pushed Anthony off the boy’s horse and saddled the younger up behind him.

Thomas nodded a little, eyes flicking to the ground before a lie was formed on his lips, “I decided to come here to wait for you. There was an outlaw. They tried to hurt your father, but I was there when they came. I gave them a wound to their side and they fled. I was sure they would either return for revenge or you would and then I would be able to tell you.”

Logan frowned a little at this. Something wasn’t right about Thomas’ story, he could sense a flaw in it, but he was more relieved that the man had kept his father safe.  
“Thank you. For saving my father. I…I owe you a great debt of gratitude.”

“It was nothing. I merely did my duty. We must protect those who cannot protect themselves, am I right?”, Thomas asked, a small smirk slipping onto his face as Logan’s lips were pulled into a smile.

“Exactly my point. Why didn’t you go to Roman though?”, Logan asked and Thomas stiffened a little as he story began to unravel. 

“Oh, Roman has…been out the past day or so. I couldn’t find him anywhere in town and you were the next best option”, Thomas murmured, swallowing a little and trying to think up an excuse in case the previous one didn’t fall through.

“Oh, that would explain why his horse was missing. Thank you for telling me. I will not leave the town until he returns”, Logan said, beginning to move his horse forward, Anthony’s trailing along behind him. 

“Uh, Logan?”, Thomas spoke up, choosing to walk alongside the horse as Logan walked it past the still closed bar. 

“Yes, Thomas?”, Logan asked, looking down at Thomas from atop his horse as the beast moved on. 

“You said you…you owed me so I was wondering…uh, would you be opposed to perhaps…spending the afternoon with me tomorrow?”, Thomas asked and Logan stopped his horse.

“I…I suppose I could. I did promise my father I’d find a spouse by the end of the month. Yes…yes, I would be honored to spend the afternoon with you tomorrow”, Logan said, turning to smile down at Thomas warmly as the wind picked up a little, a hot breeze blowing past the two and lifting Logan’s hat off his head. Logan reached out to grab it as it danced out of his hands and was pushed away from him. Thomas stumbled forward, reaching out and catching the hat as it began to descend to the dusty ground below. 

“Here”, Thomas said, a small smile causing his lips to twitch as he looked up at Logan, brushing the hat off as he lifted it up towards the hunter. 

“Thank you”, the hunter murmured as he took the hat and looked down at the fabric and leather in his hands. 

“Uh…I’ll see you tomorrow then, right?”, Thomas asked as he began to walk backward, away from the horses and riders. He tripped backward, falling onto his back as Logan looked up, stifling a laugh as Thomas brushed himself off, turning around to make sure it didn’t happen again.

“Are you alright?”, Logan asked as he pushed his horse forward and up to Thomas who was limping a little from the harsh impact. 

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to see that”, Thomas said as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, eyes focused on the uneven ground. 

“No, I…I found it a little amusing if I’m honest. It’s good to know you’re actually human”, Logan said softly, humor tinting his voice. 

“Glad to know my pain cause you some happiness”, Thomas said with a chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I apologise. I should not be finding such amusement in your pain”, Logan said with a chuckle of his own. Thomas looked up and for a second his heart melted at the sight, steeling over as he remembered why he was doing what he was doing. Magenta needed to be taken out of the picture and he had to do it. King was out of town, Virgil was as good at dead, Patton would be with him so no one would be back before the end of the week. That’d be plenty of time to steal the intellectual’s heart and crush the younger Lilac. 

“It’s fine. I…I enjoy your laugh”, Thomas murmured, looking back at the ground, but sneaked a glance up to check on the hunter. Logan’s usually stoic expression had turned into a bashful one, rose tinging his cheeks a little as he looked down at his horse’s mane. Thomas stopped walking and stared at the sight, it was rare to see the older Lilac smiling, let alone blushing the way he was right now. It’d make this battle so much easier now he was gaining more information about his opponent. 

“I…thank you. No one has complimented my laugh before. You too have an exquisite laugh, and I do enjoy your sense of humor”, Logan mumbled, as he looked down at Thomas with a small smile. Thomas felt his heart stop a little, stutter and accelerate as blood rushed to his cheeks. He’d never been very good at taking compliments and it was even worse when the one complimenting him was someone he was not supposed to be falling for. 

“I…uh”, Thomas coughed and cleared his throat, “I should be going now. Till tomorrow.”

“Till tomorrow”, Logan whispered as Thomas walked away, cursing himself for allowing himself to feel that moment of weakness in front of his enemy.

Anthony frowned from behind his brother, scowling at the blurry, retreating form of Thomas Saderson. He didn’t like the man, but he’d made his brother blush. If Thomas could make Logan happy…Anthony sighed and resigned himself to the fact that if Thomas and his brother made each other happy, he’d support their budding relationship.


	11. A Dead Flower in The Rotting Earth (One Flower Down, Two To Go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With an untimely death looming over the Lilac boys who will step in to help them through their grief? Who will stop Thomas Saderson's dastardly plot and who will stop Roman from risking his life?
> 
> Virgil risks his health, Roman is on his way to risk his life and Joan is as confused as they come. One down, two to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have three more exams to do so you probably won't get another chapter until the actual end of November, but hear me out... I will attempt to make it longer than this one will be. I know I said you wouldn't get another chapter until after exams were finished, but I couldn't keep this to myself any longer. I've had this chapter ready for about a week or two and thought you all might as well have it seeing as I've started work on the next chapter.
> 
> Please don't hate me for putting this up. I promise I'm trying hard with studying for my exams, but you guys deserved the next installment. 
> 
> Thank you to XxTearfulChildxX for your support (via comments) and letting me know you understand I have exams. Another thank you to the three guests who partook in sending kudos my way, I appreciate the sentiment.
> 
> Now, without further ado the latest installment only about a month after the last one. Enjoy :)

“Come on. I know you’re awake. I promised Patton I’d be here for you”, Roman mumbled as he took a seat next to the outlaw’s bed, fingers tenting on his chest as he looked over the semi-unconscious, darkly clad figure. Virgil groaned a little and opened his eyes to look up at the hunter.

“You need to leave”, Virgil wheezed out, memories flying back to him. He shuddered as the sound of Thomas’ pistol ran through his skull, reverberating around in the bone and soft tissue. 

“You didn’t tell me you were an outlaw”, Roman said, giving Virgil another look over before fixing his narrowing eyes on Virgil’s already narrowed gaze. 

“You didn’t ask. You need to leave and-”

“You know I’m a hunter. Once you’re better I’ll bring you in, but before that, I want the full story. From when I saw you in the bar until now”, Roman growled softly reaching over to Virgil and gripping his wrist a little too tight.

“If you won’t interrupt me and promise to leave as soon as the story’s over then yes, you have yourself a deal. Just get back to Akers town as soon as I’ve told you the whole story”, Virgil growled back as Roman released his wrist and the outlaw rubbed the sore bones and flesh. Virgil huffed lightly and grimaced as Roman pushed himself closer. “I’m an outlaw, that much you know. I…I came to Akers town to rob the place and got told off by my boss who you know as Thomas Saderson.”

“I knew he couldn’t be trusted”, Roman interjected only to gain a glare from Virgil.

“What did I say?”

“No interruptions. Continue.”

“As I was saying, I work for Thomas and he lets me keep some of the payment. I came back to Akers town to blackmail him after I figured he might have a weakness lodged in the town. After a…friendly chat with my employer, I found he was just in it to get to Logan Magenta, or Lilac as I’ve come to know him as. I…I was found out by Patton and left for a little bit, came back and help you carry Logan home then left again. Thomas found me and I stayed in Joan’s bar for a little while before Pat came. I told him about Thomas and then Joan and Tal ran off to save him or something. I found a book that Thomas had tucked away with all of his evil intentions, ran off to save Logan with Pat, got shot and now I’m here.”

Roman nodded slowly, trying to process all the information he was being fed. His head jerked up a little as the story finally sunk in, details and all.

“Wait, so Thomas is an outlaw boss?”

“Yes.”

“And you work for him?”

“Yes.”

“And Logan’s in trouble?”

“Yes, again. Did you not get all of this from my story?”

“You’re right. I have to leave. If you’re here with Joan, Pat and me then Logan’s alone with Thomas.”

“You left him alone?”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know about any of this before you told me”, Roman cried out, running his hands through his hair and standing up abruptly, chair falling back behind him to the ground. The loud clatter of wood against wood made Virgil flinch, still unused to the loud noises of the outside world. The flinching motion and subsequent hiss of pain made Roman’s eyes flick to him, brown pools swimming with determination and anger. “I’m off to help Logan.”

“And I’m coming with you”, Virgil said, sitting up completely and glaring at the sheets of his bed. The pristine, pale blue slid across his legs innocently as he dismounted from the bed, stumbling back onto it as he attempted to stand. 

“No, you’re staying here and getting better. I can’t have you getting worse before I can turn you in”, Roman growled softly as he reached over and grasped Virgil’s shoulders tight enough to bruise. Virgil winced a little and wrestled his shoulders out of Roman’s grip, turning around to glare at the hunter. 

“Look, believe it or not, I want to help. I may not know Logan that well, but the people Thomas is going to hurt if he doesn’t get his way…I want to help them. I get it, I’m an outlaw, I’m untrustworthy, but I want to help Akers town. I don’t want innocent people dead because my boss is an unfeeling, murderous, revenge-fuelled monster.”

“You’re staying here. You were right before, I need to go help Logan”, Roman muttered, stepping back and walking towards the door, hand running over the dull bronze handle. Virgil watched him silently, brown-eyed glare focused on the hunter’s back. 

“I…you left him alone.”

Roman kept his eyes on the door handle, not daring to twist it as his heart somersaulted with guilt.

“I can help”, the outlaw insisted as Roman closed his eyes. “I want to help.”

Roman kept his face blank of emotion as he twisted the doorknob and breathed out.

“You left him alone with a murderer!”, Virgil cried out, finally snapping as Roman’s quiet, silent form. Roman turned around, coat whipping out behind him as he walked quickly to the bed, a dark snarl present on his face marring the usually calm and positive appearance. 

“I didn’t know!”, the hunter yelled gripping the sheets of Virgil’s bed in white-knuckled hands, twisting the pale blue fabric as he felt fear and anger wash over him like a tidal wave. He dropped to his knees and clenched his teeth, hand coming to cover his mouth as water began to leak from his eyes, staining his cheeks as red blossomed forth from the pale orbs. “I didn’t know.”

Virgil looked down at the hunter, eyes cold as his mouth twisted from a frown to a sneer. “You should have.”

 

Thomas smirked into his mirror, pushing the strands of hair back as they flopped down into his eyes. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, loosening it a little as he ran a hand through his hair. With one more glance at the flowers to his right, he knew he was ready. Ready to bury that old geezer David that stood in his way for far too long, making Logan too hesitant to even think about marriage. Today was the day David Lilac was to be buried and Thomas couldn’t be happier. Of course, he’d have to hide that happiness. It’d be a shame to waste all his hard work in getting Logan on his side only to lose him at his father’s funeral. 

The outlaw boss let out a snigger as he picked up the flowers. Beautiful dark crimson roses, white lilies, and pink carnations tied together with string. It was all too perfect for Thomas to bear as he walked to the door and donned a black hat he’d cleaned for this very occasion. David Lilac, aged sixty, death by poison at Thomas’ hand – unbeknownst to the townspeople. To them, it was just old age and the so-called cold that David had suffered from in his final hours.

A laugh echoed briefly through the old white house, bouncing off the walls and paintings as the man cleared the smile off his face, donning a grim expression and pitiful eyes instead. Oh, how perfect could life get? One down, two to go, the man thought as he exited his house, hand brushing lazily over some daffodils and long green stems. The church bells rang from below as Thomas walked down the hill, hand in his pocket as he fished out his pocket watch. The small, intricately engraved silver watch slid easily out of the grey and black fabric of his pocket. He clicked it open and gazed down at the moving hands; little black pieces of metal set behind a dome of glass against a cream background. 

Thomas chuckled softly as he looked around, the entire town was deserted. Shops closed down for a day of mourning, grieving for the passing of one of the wealthiest people the town had to offer. The outlaw boss rolled his eyes and snarled a little at the churchyard. No doubt now that David was gone, new of his passing spreading like wildfire as most things to do with death do, Logan would become a much sought-after prize among the community. Young, rich in some way, handsome, intellectually driven. A dreamboat if ever there was one, Thomas thought sarcastically with a dry laugh, stopping a few feet from the small church. 

White with a small spire at the back, topped with a small wooden cross it stood off to the side of the town. It was close to the edge, only stopped from reaching aforementioned edge by the small plot of land that stood between the fence and church. The plot was dotted with neat rows of tombstones, sculpted figures and intricate metal plates all indicating a dead member of the community. Due to the community’s size, being rather small and only home to a couple hundred people, the plot didn’t take up too much room. What did take up a large amount of room was the turn out for the elder Lilac’s funeral. 

Apparently, all of the town’s people had decided to turn up. And, fair enough, Thomas supposed as he leaned against the church and watched the ceremony get underway. People took out fans, if they had them and Thomas was suddenly reminded of the fan back at his house, perhaps it would be best to make a quick trip back home to gather it for Logan. The poor hunter would need it in this heat, with all the black he was wearing. He hoped the hunter wouldn’t notice his lack of presence as he walked back up the hill, stopping momentarily to catch his breath as the sun shone down on his harshly as if punishing him for some deed he had committed. Thomas laughed at the thought. He’d committed so many and yet only now was the sun becoming a brutal punishment. Perhaps it was trying to deter him from returning to his house or the funeral, trying to fry him on the spot as he stopped and glared up at it, smug smirk on his face. 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that”, the traveler said softly, wiping his forehead and setting off, stones tumbling away under his boots as he hiked the last few feet up the hill to his home. 

 

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, I know.”

“He was such a nice man.”

“I know.”

“He cared for this community so much.”

“Yes, he did.”

“You have our prayers.”

“Thank you”, Logan said, voice stiff as the couple walked off after the elderly woman and young male. He almost rolled his eyes as he glanced at the small line that had formed of people wanting to talk to him, help him through grieving, try to make a move on him for his money. It was getting ridiculous and Logan detested the ridiculous. He wished Patton or Roman were here, helping him with all these people. He glanced back a little to check on Anthony. The only reason he wasn’t with his younger brother was because of these people. How he’d love to just whisk the boy away to their home, spend the next few days cooped up in their white palace of solitude, separated from these flies that swarmed around them as if they were made of decaying matter. How he’d love to just spend his days away from this town, away from these people with only his books and brother for company. But he couldn’t. It was an unrealistic wish that he could never have fulfilled. Logan looked up a little watching as the lips of a one Wilbur Corsickle moved, brawny arms and sausage fingers reaching out for Logan’s hand as kind eyes moved from the ground to Logan’s face, concern clouding his freckled features. Wilbur’s hand was warm, calloused from laboring in the fields, but pleasantly soft in a way.

“Do you mind?”, the large boy asked as he raised a hand to Logan’s face. Logan shook his head a little, allowing the boy to pull him in a little, fingers gently wiping away tears that seeped from the corners of Logan’s chocolate eyes. The calloused hand nudged his glasses a little but Logan didn’t mind as he let the tears fall, shock finally catching up to him as his body numbed. A small, barely audible whimper escaped Logan’s mouth before a hand on his shoulder finally snapped him out of the shocked state. 

“I’ll take it from here”, a voice whispered softly and Wilbur nodded, moving away from Logan and whoever was now holding him. “Let’s get you and Anthony home.”

Logan nodded numbly, allowing the figure to gently grasp his arm and pull him away from the crowd of money hungry vultures. Anthony’s soft footfalls moved off after his brother, but Logan didn’t dare look up as his mind swirled with a fog unlike that of the rage he had held at times. The fog that clouded everything and made him retreat into his mind. A swirling white mist that rang in his ears, blocked out his senses and made his jaw clam up. It was a little comforting, but it scared him. The comfort, the calling, the blocking and white noise. He could get lost in it all, he had before and he would again. What scared him was that one day, he may not wake up from it. 

He didn’t notice he was home, or that he was sitting, or that the sun had gone down hours ago until Anthony was crying softly in his lap. Dark brown pools filled with grief and sadness for a man he never truly knew but had called father regardless. Sorrow and anguish filled tears streamed over dark cheeks, red and rosy with pent-up suffering. Logan pushed a hand gently through the tuft of wild raven hair the younger possessed. It was hard going through this, he’d experienced this thrice before; his mother, and then both of Roman’s parents. 

It had been so hard on him the first time, pain so built up behind a wall of indifference that once the floodgates opened, one fateful night with Roman, there was no going back. It had felt like his entire world was ending, tears streaming steadily down red, aching cheeks, nose running as if he had a cold. His chest ached, his throat ached, his voice was scratchy and there was nothing Roman could do to comfort him except sit there and rock back and forth, his best friend wrapped tightly in his embrace. 

Thinking back on it now, Logan could only imagine how painful it would be for Anthony. Though he never truly forgot the pain that had wracked his body every day since the day his mother died, it had dulled over time. Anthony’s pain was new, fresh; like an open wound that had been salted and pulled open over and over again. A gash that sizzled with pain and sorrow from the depths of his heart to the back of his skull. A pounding, aching, scratching that pierced the back of his mind, scorched his eyelids, scratched his throat raw and pushed pins of delicate pain into his beaten, bloody heart. 

Logan tilted his head back into the wall, pulling his brother closer to his chest and stifling the cries with his coat and shirt. It took a little while before the cries died down from soft howls to whimpers of pain. The elder cuddled his brother closer to him, eyes unfocused as his head craned forward, neck meeting Anthony’s dark hair. His Adam’s apple bobbed a little against the mane of black and brown, coffee strands tickling his chin as Anthony nudged his head closer. Logan closed his eyes as the younger settled into a comfortable position and finally stilled, voice silent and whimpers cleared from the air as silence reigned supreme. 

“Lo?”, Anthony asked, looking up a little into the underside of his brother’s jaw, nose driving into the soft skin gently. 

“Yes?”, Logan asked, voice soft as he ran a hand through Anthony’s hair, swallowing at the dryness of his mouth and throat. 

“Why…why do people die?”, Anthony asked and for once Logan didn’t know the answer to a question posed by another. Logan pulled Anthony in closer and sighed into the mass of dark hair that clung to Anthony’s head. 

“I…I don’t know”, Logan murmured into his hair, running a hand over Anthony’s back and shoulders, letting the appendage run around in slow, soothing circles. 

“Uh, is this a bad time to be here?”, a voice asked, soft and low with comforting undertones. Logan opened his eyes and looked over at Thomas, the traveler standing off the side of the room awkwardly, eyes moving to the ground as Logan’s drilled into him. Logan shook his head softly and motioned Thomas over, clasping a hand around the other man’s neck and pulling him in, allowing his tears to finally break free and fall onto the traveler’s shoulder. Thomas merely took a seat next to Logan and pulled the brothers close, keeping his touches light in the wake of the grief and devastation. He’d returned to find Logan a teary mess in the graveyard, Anthony even more so. He’d ushered them away from the townspeople and up the hill to their home. As much as he loathed the hunter he couldn’t bear the thought of other people making the man cry; call it his humanity or jealousy he wouldn’t stand for those people making the hunter tear up and break. Only he was allowed to make the hunter cry, only he was allowed to break the man down to dust, only he was…only he was…

Thomas looked down at his left shoulder where the cries had dimmed to soft whimpers and distant sighs, shuddering breaths replaced with tiny gasps for air. The Lilac brothers lay next to him, passes out with tear stains marking their cheeks. The outlaw boss sighed and pulled the hunter in closer, taking a moment to shift into a more comfortable position on the white couch. This would be beneficial to his final goals. He’d gain their trust, make them think he was an innocent, naïve traveler and then he’d pounce on them. He’d tear them apart, rip them to shreds, make mincemeat out of their souls.

The boss swallowed and tucked his head in a little, nosing Logan’s brown hair out of the way and planting a soft kiss on the top of his skull before pushing his chin over it, jaw meeting forehead as he finally found a comfortable position. He relaxed into the couch, finding his peace before pulling the two closer and closing his eyes. 

Thomas smirked in his sleep addled state; the blood had been cleaned up, bullet marks patched up, scuff marks wiped away, and poison disposed of. Oh, it felt so good to get away with murder. 

 

Joan grimaced as they awoke, mind fuzzy, tongue like lead and body in pain. They knew that they’d been drinking immediately, they’d felt this before. Joan opened their eyes, glancing around the room and flinching at the brightness of it all. They hated hangovers, but it was just part of drinking alcohol and being away from the bar. Speaking of which.

Joan sat up and rubbed their head, properly taking in all the details of the room they’d been given. White sheets decorated their oak bed, hard pillows placed under their head along with a coat that reminded Joan of something. They couldn’t place where they’d seen the dark brown leather before, but it would come to them in time. The rest of the room was plain, boring and uninspiring. It held little else than a small window opposite the door, and a trunk at the end of the bed. Both creations were made of oak and the window was painted white, paint peeling off in places as the age showed through. 

The sun shone through cracks in the dust and dirt, orange light filtering into the room and bouncing off the metal that adorned parts of the leather coat under their head. The sunset was most likely very beautiful, yet Joan couldn’t find it in them to care all that much. In this world, this land, this desert a sunset like that could be a death sentence. A warning of the terrors to come. It was so beautiful, yet so deadly. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, as the adage goes. For all the poor souls, out there in the desert knew, the sun could set and never come up again for them. Death laid in wait around every corner and there was no telling what laid around the corner of the sun setting. 

The sun was deceptive like that. Beautiful, but deadly. Brilliant and radiant, yet a curse. It gave life and took it away. It sent men to their graves and allowed new ones to rise, ready to take on the world they had been born into. How naïve would one have to be to think of the sun as beautiful? How stupid would one have to be to think of the sun as radiant? How trusting would one have to be to think anything in this world could be kind and pure and lovely? The world was a cesspool full of deceit and lies. People selling out others for money, and what? What else was there in this world but money? What else was there but money and lies and deceit and the torture of the sun? Life was painful. Death was painful. Birth was painful. What in this world wasn’t painful? Even love…even love was painful.

There was a creak and Joan’s head spun to the door, eyes dancing over the construction as his head swam from the quick action. The door opened, knob turning slowly and stopping before quickly bouncing back to its previous position. A hand grasped the wood and pushed it open, a small grunt echoing through the empty expanse of the room. A tuft of brown hair came next, bobbing a little before tilting up allowing Joan to witness the bespectacled face of one Patton of Akers town. 

“Morning sport. How’re ya feeling?”, Patton asked softly and Joan groaned collapsing back into the bed as the sunset cast a glow throughout the room. They rubbed the heels of their hands into the eye sockets, trying to filter out all the light that was currently streaming onto their face. “I’ll take that as terrible”, Patton said gently, taking a seat on the side of Joan’s bed as the bartender shifted over, a loud groan resonating from the lump of pale flesh and dark hair covered by white sheets. 

“What did I drink last night?”, Joan groaned out, shifting around a little until they finally found a comfortable position, turning their head a little and glaring up at Patton who offered only a gentle smile as he adjusted his glasses. 

“Well…I’m not exactly sure what it was, but you drank about a glass of it and ended up completely smashed and out of it. You okay, buddy?”, Patton asked, tilting his head a little in concern. Joan merely groaned again and pulled their body in closer, curling up in a ball like position. 

“No. Do I look okay to you?”

“Well”, Patton muttered softly before Joan’s hiss of discontent brought him back to reality and made him start a little at the unexpected aggression. 

“Leave me to sleep please”, Joan mumbled out and Patton sighed, taking his leave as Joan curled up more. Patton opened the door gently and walked out of the room, leaving Joan to wallow in their pain and misery as the sun glared through the window with orange and pink tones, painting the sheets in a pale orange and rose light. 

Patton made his way down to the bar, greeting the only other human within the establishment still awake and giving her a smile. The bartender grunted softly, going back to cleaning before setting the glass down and turn to him fully. 

“I’m off to see my friend. Uh…Joan’s not going to need anything for a while. Thank you for letting us stay here while our friend heals up”, Patton said, rubbing the back of his neck as the woman’s brown eyes drilled into him. The robust lady grunted softly again and turned back to cleaning, running her cloth over the dirty, dusty mirror and leaving a smear of dirt in the cloths wake. Patton gave the bartender one final hesitant nod before journeying out of the bar and across the road to the small two-story building that Virgil was currently being held in. He sighed and pushed open the door, smiling at the few people that dotted the hall waiting for friends and family to return. A small male with dark hair smiled back and turned his face to the ground as Patton walked past him, determined to see Virgil.

 

“Why are you here?”, Virgil asked, curiosity and confusion coloring his tone as Patton stepped into his room. 

“I’m here to see you. Where’s Roman?”, Patton asked, looking around as he stepped towards Virgil, hand gripping the chair lightly. 

“Your friends left already”, Virgil muttered as Patton looked around the small room for Roman.

“Left? For where. He was meant to be here with you. Oh, when I get my hands on him”, Patton growled softly as he took a seat next to Virgil’s bed and looked down at his white-knuckled hands that were clenched into tight fists. 

“He left to go help Logan. Remember. We were going to help Logan out and I told him all about it. Don’t tell me he went off alone”, Virgil muttered, turning his gaze to the small, dust-covered window that obscured his view of the outside world. 

“He…he’s gone to help Logan”, Patton echoed softly, eyes widening as the words sunk in, “he’s gone to help Logan without us?”

“Well, I assumed he’d take you or Joan with him, but I guess hunters are just as bull-headed as I remember”, Virgil growled as he sat up on the bed, twisting his body until his legs were planted firmly on the ground. He’d had enough rest and he couldn’t let that idiot kill himself in the process of helping another hunter against his boss. 

“He’s gone to help Logan”, Patton repeated, voice low and breathy, eyes focused on the wood floor at his feet rather than the outlaw that was, at this very moment, hobbling over to the door to let himself out. 

“You coming or are you going to let him get killed by my boss?”, Virgil asked, looking back as he twisted the door handle and shoved the door open, grimacing as pain rippled through him from his bullet wound, the sudden force on them causing sharp pinpricks of pain that turned into a throbbing ache that filed his torso. Patton didn’t lift his head and Virgil rolled his eyes, walking out as best he could and making his way to his horse. The bartender started when the door slammed shut behind Virgil, head whipping to the sound before turning to the empty bed. With a sudden shock, realization dawned on him and he sprinted out of the room, ignoring the calls of the medical practitioners and staff as he attempted to catch up to the crippled man. 

Virgil was already soothing Di and forcing himself up when Patton exited the establishment, eyes wild and wide as they searched for the injured outlaw. The outlaw didn’t see him as he kicked Di into a trot, moving off as a swift pace. Upon seeing this the wide-eyed bartender raced into the bar, dropped some coins onto the wood and ran up the stairs, retrieving a bewildered and flabbergasted Joan from their sleeping chambers and grabbing Roman’s coat in the process. It was mere minutes before the pair arrived downstairs, Patton promising to fill the dark-haired bartender in on their way to Akers town.

It was clear to Joan that something was wrong and whatever was wrong had deeply affected the other bartender enough to need Joan to come with him. They didn’t ask for an explanation as the duo entered the bar but hesitated as Patton raced out for the doors the sound of a horse echoing through the dark night. With a glance at their hostess and a nod from the woman, Joan ran out of the doors after Patton finding the man perched upon their horse head swiveling to and fro.

“What’s wrong?”, Joan called up, face a picture of worry as Patton’s head twisted to them. Patton swallowed and looked at the entrance to the town where Joan could see the distant figure of horse and rider exiting into the desert and lonely night. 

“Get on. I’ll explain on the way”, Patton urged, finding his voice as Joan moved closer, forcing their weary body up onto the horse’s back as Patton kicked the beast into action, bolting after the rider. Joan looked back at the bar and buildings, the town they’d most likely never see again. 

“Good riddance”, they muttered under their breath before turning their head back to the road ahead.


	12. Making Plans in the Dark of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio of heroes continue their journey to Akers town only to be stopped along the way by an old friend. Meanwhile, Thomas finds out of their travelling and leaves Akers town to pursue some business. Logan and Anthony have a heart to heart and Anthony accidentally persuades Logan into seeing through getting married and staying in Akers town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, exams are over and I get my results on the 15th of December. Until then I should be able to finally finish this stupid thing. Also, I checked out how many words are in a short story, a novelette and a novel and congratulations guys you got me to write enough words to fill a novel which is apparently +40 000... and we're at +60 000... which is taking up about 101 pages in a word document at present. So well done. You all deserve a round of applause for getting me to novel length. So proud of all of you for sticking with it. Sorry it took so long to get this up and it's kind of short, so... yeah.
> 
> Right onto thanks. A big thank you to settingitoff for commenting, along with thanks to 3 guests who sent me kudos.
> 
> Okay, onto the... 12th chapter? My word... Onto the 12th chapter of Six Shooter, enjoy.

Thomas jerked awake at the sound of something tapping on the living room window. He scrunched up his face as the light finally penetrated the darkness that lay behind his eyelids, sighing in annoyance as the tapping continued if slightly toned down. With heavy eyelids and a sneer to curdle dairy, the brown-haired man began to sit up. There was a soft moan from his chest and the outlaw boss realized he was no longer in his own house, rather he was in the Lilac house with the elder of the Lilac lads passed out on his chest, a soft frown marring his features at the sudden motion beneath him. It was…Thomas didn’t know what it was. Was it amazing? Was it enthralling? Was it eerie? Whatever it was it made his heart soften slightly, cracking the molded stone casing around his dead, lifeless cardiovascular muscle – or as dead and lifeless as the darn thing could be that is. 

The tapping continued to annoy him and he found it forming into a niggling sensation on the inside of his skull. Practiced claws with painful accuracy digging into the soft material of his mind. Eventually, he could no longer stand the pain and, though his heart ached at the motions, carefully slid Logan’s body off his own and onto the couch. It was relatively easy from there to take his leave from the room and enjoy the feeling of his numbed legs regaining blood flow – painful pins and needles jabbing at his only source of movement. With a rumbling sigh, the outlaw boss shook his legs, attempting in vain to send more blood to his legs. Thomas frowned when the pain finally subsided enough for him to properly move, the front door of the Lilac property now within his reach. With the sort of annoyed aura, he usually reserved for his employees, the outlaw boss flung the door open, glaring towards the spot where the tapping was originating from. 

A figure moved in the blinding light, slow enough to be human yet quick enough to be either an outlaw or a burglar. In this case, either was possible, Thomas reasoned, but he’d give them what for if they came at him.

“Boss”, the figure whispered and Thomas groaned internally, thankful for once it was one of his employees.

“Yes?”, Thomas asked at the figure neared and the sun’s blinding rays stopped cloaking the figure in shadows. A man presented himself, a little taller than his boss but equally as burly. “What have you come to me for? I thought I told all of you to leave Akers town alone, have you not learned your lesson?”, the smaller of the two threatened, wrapping a hand around the hilt of the pistol tucked away in the layers of clothing he wore. 

“Sorry, boss. But I thought you should know. Virgil’s on his way here with back up. Roman’s closest to the town, but still a day or two away from here. His horse is a tired one, won’t be able to make it riding all the way here. He’ll have to rest it up along the way”, the man spoke, eyes darting to the hallway behind his employer, cautious and quiet as he tried to find any footsteps descending the stairs or any movement other than his and Thomas’ own. 

“Thank you for this information. You will be rewarded handsomely for your efforts. How, pray tell, were you able to learn about all of this and come tell me before Virgil’s little friends and the hunter arrived?”, Thomas asked, curious of the man’s information. You could never be too careful.

“Note came by bird from Smithton. Said that a bloodied man and three others took up a night in one of the bars there. They recognized the four and when the hunter left they sent me a note. I came from Talyn’s right here to tell you. Have the note with me and everything if you want it”, the employee said, pulling out a small roll of paper from his coat pocket and handing it to Thomas with somewhat shaky hands. 

Thomas glanced the paper over and nodded softly, “Good, man. Leave me now. I have to propose to this devil and make sure the brother is out of the way before I can attend to Virgil and his party of misfits.”

The employee nodded, tucking his hands into his coat pockets and looking left and right before walking away from the house, early morning sun shining off the small metal objects that adorned his form. Thomas sighed as the man vanished down the hill, pulling out his pistol he fired one shot at the out of sight man. There was a caw from a bird a few miles away and the sound of something hitting the ground with a thud. Thomas twirled the pistol and walked down the hill to the body, kicking it gently with his foot before nudging it into the long grass beside the road. With Roman away and Logan confined to his house no one would find the body. Thomas chuckled softly and pocketed his pistol, tapping the metal as he wandered back up the hill. His no witnesses’ policy was a little bit poor, but he couldn’t have anyone in the town seeing the outlaw talking to him in such a casual manner. Thomas smirked a little as he stood by the door, looking out at the slowly waking world with a mix of bemusement and disdain. The outlaw boss took the moment of quiet to appreciate his own genius before turning on his heel and walking back inside. _First thing’s first_ , he thought as he tucked the paper into his coat and safely out of the way of falling out – he couldn’t be found out at this point in time, not when he’d almost finished his plan – _I need to take care of the younger Lilac, then I can move onto his brother_. 

 

“Are you sure about this?”, Joan mumbled as they clung to Patton in a futile attempt to keep themselves from falling off. So far, they had managed to stay upright and out of danger, but it was becoming increasingly difficult seeing as they had only had a few hours’ sleep and were still rather hungover from the previous ingestion of hard liquor. 

“Certain, but if you’d rather walk, be my guest”, Patton mumbled half-heartedly, wondering if he had indeed made the correct decision to not only follow Virgil but to also follow his foolhardy crush into the scrum of the battle against Thomas Sanderson. Patton thought hunters were meant to be smart, not bull-headed morons. Yet here they were, two bartenders perched atop a saddled horse following an outlaw in the hopes of somehow making contact with Logan before the outlaw boss had a chance harm him and his younger brother. 

Dust spat up at them as Patton pushed the horse further, faster, closer to Virgil and Di. The outlaw looked extremely determined, eyes hard and set upon the horizon of the dusty land even as the boulders and sun loomed over him on all sides. Dark against the sun-drenched land, a stark contrast that favored his clothing and horse above all else. Black smudges against the beige, the duo raced across the desert, conquering the heat with thoughts of the Lilac and the Sanderson. The flower that awaited its knight in shining black leather, his faithful dark steed by his side. A far contrast from the usual fairy tale, with their metal plated knights and white horses. Sword swapped for a pistol loaded with ammunition. Dragon swapped for an outlaw boss wanting a vendetta, needing to harm the flower Virgil was riding to save. The tower swapped for a town, the animals swapped for people. _A real fairy tale, huh_ , Virgil thought bitterly as he rode on, pushing Di to move faster to their destination.

Patton wiped his brow as the sweltering heat penetrated the thick leather coat he wore, sweat drenching his shirt as he wondered just how long it would be before the group found themselves in Akers town. He wished it to be sooner rather than later as Joan adjusted themselves on the saddle behind him. With a jerk of his head, Patton pushed his glasses up not taking either hand off the reins of his horse. Joan, upon seeing this, moved one of their hands up to gently adjust both Patton’s hat and glasses.

“Thank you”, the man grunted softly, urging the horse closer to the outlaws. Virgil seemed to slow, eyes planted on a dusty, dark brown boulder in the distance. The dark clad outlaw tilted his head a little as Di moved slowly towards the shape, the two bartenders coming up behind the dark duo and slowing to match.

“What’s wrong?”, Joan asked, eyes drawn to Virgil instead of the boulder-like shape.

“Is that a horse?”, Patton asked, his own eyes focused on the shape as it shuddered slightly. Virgil gave a single nod of confirmation before pulling out his pistol and dropping off Di to the ground. He prodded the metal softly into the beast’s stomach as the horse turned over a bit, large brown eyes blinking back at the outlaw. “Wait…wait, that’s- that’s Cameron”, Patton murmured, dismounting with Joan and pulling Joan’s horse along with him.

“Who names their horse Cameron?”, Virgil grunted out, finally speaking as he pushed the pistol back within the confines of his coat and dusting off the beast a little.

“Roman. Cameron is Roman’s horse”, Patton stated softly, bending down and handing the reins off to Joan as he ran a hand over the dusty strips of leather attached to his friend’s horse. Cameron lifted an eyelid, breath causing tiny clouds of dust to blow away from him as Patton rubbed his forehead gently. 

“We can’t leave him here and if Roman left him, he’s probably coming back. He couldn’t get all the way to Akers town on foot and it’s more than likely that he’ll return for his horse once he’s gathered supplies and such”, Virgil mumbled, turning away from the slumbering beast and kicking a stone. “In any case, we can’t waste time here. I need to get to Akers and seeing as you, Patton, know this horse so well, I suggest you be the one to stay behind and take care of it”, the outlaw grumbled, attempting in vain to pull himself up onto his saddle. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up only to land on the ground and groan in pain as Joan rushed over to tend to the injury.

“You idiot. I thought you were supposed to be better at taking care of yourself than this”, Joan growled, glaring at their friend and pulling the outlaw’s arm over their shoulders. It took a little work and some small grunts of pain from Virgil, but eventually, the two bartenders were able to sit the outlaw against the sleeping horse.

“We can’t ride off and leave him like this”, Patton mumbled, pushing his hat up and running a hand through his hair. Joan nodded in agreement, grabbing their horse’s reins where they had been dropped and pulling the creature over to Di’s side and grabbing the other horse’s reins.

“But we also can’t let Thomas get away with whatever plan he’s got for your friend and his brother”, Joan mumbled as the handed the reins off to Patton and dug around in their horse’s saddle bag for some pegs and a hammer.

“We’ll have to wait for Roman then I guess… let’s just hope Logan can survive until then”, Patton murmured, as Joan positioned the pegs and swung the hammer down on top of them, the resounding sound of metal hitting metal filling their air.

The pair of bartenders were quiet as the sound bounded around them, filling the stale air with its repetitive sound. The dirt and dust that caked Cameron’s rich brown body filled the air with the sound, stirred up by Virgil’s hands as they grabbed at the hairs, pain torturing his side with boulder-sized needles. Rocks tumbled down the hill as Joan tied the reins of the two horses to the pegs, one peg per horse with little space between them. Di settled as the sun began to tinge the clouds above with streaks of orange and pink, coating them with color as they soaked up what little remained of the sun’s light. The clouds greedily swallowed the color while the three humans and horses waited patiently, hours ticking by as they stayed where they were.

The moon and stars filled the darkening sky, midnight blue setting into the once cobalt abyss above them. Glittering lights of silver and white dotted the inky blue like the many grains of sand and dust below the company’s feet. A crunching sound filled the cold air and two heads turned to gaze at the tired face and smoldering eyes of a one Roman King. 

“What are you two doing here?”, Roman hissed at them, his small pile of kindling dropping to the ground as he wiped his dirty hands off on his breeches. 

“Waiting for you”, Joan hissed back, seemingly just as grouchy as their long-lost comrade. 

“We were worried and Virgil wasn’t well… we… we wanted to make sure you were okay, that Cameron was okay”, Patton tried to reason, standing and walking over to the hunter with an expression that neither hunter nor bartender could decipher.

“I didn’t ask you to come and find me”, Roman growled lowly, obviously agitated by the sudden appearance of the two bartenders and unconscious outlaw.

“You didn’t have to”, Patton replied in kind, a small frown inching its way onto his face as he spoke. The agitation of the man in front of him seemingly infecting him too as he straightened his posture and looked up at Roman.  
Roman’s words were ice-like as he spoke, “Go back to Smithton. Akers town is still too far away from here. Virgil needs medical attention.”

“So does Cameron. Honestly Roman, I thought you knew better than to treat your horse like this.”

“I wasn’t the one who rode him ragged to Smithton.”

“Virgil needed medical attention.”

“Oh, sure he did. Just go back to Smithton, I’ll save Lo and Anthony and then I’ll send word to you guys.”

“I’m not leaving you to get yourself or anyone else killed by this maniac.”

“Well then you aren’t hearing me right”, Roman growled, standing up to his full height and narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Leave here now and let me go save Logan.”

“I’m not leaving you alone so you can get yourself murdered.”

“I won’t be alone, I’ll have Logan with me.”

Patton hesitated before opening his mouth to reply to the comment, “Well then I guess we both know what you’re really after with a statement like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Roman asked, growling a little and glaring down at the somewhat shorter male.

“You know perfectly well what I mean. I should have known you were after his money too. You’re just as bad as… as…”, Patton let out a small growl of his own, closing his eyes.

“Come on, I dare you to say it”, Roman murmured, body inching closer to the bartender.

“You’re as bad as Thomas”, Patton finally spat out, venom thick in his voice as his eyes open, ice like with obvious rage. Roman dared not speak, his eyes finding the ground and hands clasping each other behind his back. Patton’s feet shuffled away from him and he heard the tell-tale sound of dust rustling under leather boots as someone knelt on the rocky ground. 

“Well…”, Roman began, words rushed through his head as he tried to form a coherent sentence to defend himself, “At least I’m not an emotional wreck.”

Silence filled the cool air, crickets chirping away quietly in the background. The bartenders didn’t move, Virgil remained asleep and Roman refused to make a sound. Di’s head and ears perked up at something in the distance that no human could catch. A rock rolled softly down the hill a few miles off and the mare’s heart rate quickened in tow with the revelation of rider and horse. The moon glinted off metal buckles and buttons, silver shining dimly in the dark. The rider reached into their coat, the suggestive click of a pistol quiet against the chirping of crickets and soft hooting of owls. Di stamped her hoof softly into the dirt and waited for Joan to look at her before rearing her head back a little. Joan’s eyes caught the movement in the dark, widening a little as they tried to remember how to breathe.

It truly was a terrifying sight to behold. An armed rider, shadowed by the darkness of the night on a dark steed. It was ghostly, almost supernatural with the way the pistol glinted in the dull light and the rider breathed in simultaneity with their horse. Chests filling and collapsing with twin breaths under coats of leather and hair. Joan was stuck between staring at the sight and letting the other two know of the mysterious rider in the night. They decided it better to let them know and rolled a rock over in the direction of the crouching Patton and sleeping Virgil.

“Yes, Joan?”, Patton asked, sounding rather annoyed that Joan hadn’t spoken to him but had instead decided that tossing a small rock at his leg would be the best way of getting his attention. When Joan didn’t respond Patton turned his gaze from Virgil’s wound to the rock tossing bartender and gave them a soft glare. Joan tilted their head softly in the direction of the rider and made a shushing notion at Roman and Patton, who glanced towards the dark figures before looking at each other with twin impassive stares. 

“I’ll get the fire started then”, Roman said, making his voice a little louder than it had been previously as he dropped to the ground and gathered the kindling he’d managed to find. He set up the fire between Joan, Patton, and Virgil with a little space either way. Joan’s eyes flicked towards the rider, staying on the dark clad figure for a moment before the sudden light drew them away.

Orange and white mixed together in a sensual dance, licking at the kindling and dancing over the darkening wood. Crackling filled the air as light illuminated the group with a pale orange glow. Heat poured forth from the construct as small embers dove from the flames into the abyss above. The beauty was lost on the group though as the sound of hooves on rocks drew closer, the quiet murmur of dust in the wind growing fainter as the thudding of three heartbeats drowned out all but the hooves. They each secretly hoped that the rider would pass them by, leave them alone, continue with their ride; but as each upturned, clattering rock and low, heavy hoof beat neared, they knew that wasn’t to be the case. 

 

Logan awoke late that afternoon with Anthony snuggled up against his ribcage, heart beating softly against the squishy, human anatomy he held. His eyes were sore from either the sun’s bright rays or the tears – he didn’t know which. Speaking of the heavenly body that shone light upon the world, it was descending rapidly into the edges of the sky, beautiful celestial orange beauty tinting the sky with its saturating light. The now hydrangea blue sky, stained ever so slightly with the orange and peach of a rose, began to darken. Inky blue was slowly spilling in with hints of silver stars to dot the dark canvas. It would have been beautiful had it not been only a day since the sharp knife of mourning had wedged itself deep in Logan’s mind, heart and soul. 

With a heavy heart and stomach full of lead, the elder Lilac shifted softly out from under his younger brother, running a hand gently through the unruly black strands of Anthony’s hair. His smile diminished as he freed himself, stretching a tad before going about his chores. Grief wouldn’t inhibit him from fulfilling his duties. The horses needed nourishment, the orchard needed to be tended to, the animals fed and given water. Many jobs quickly filled his mind and he set about doing them, fulfilling the mundane tasks as if his heart were not with his body. He moved around quickly, tending to the most pressing matters first before moving on and on, and so forth. 

It was dark, the moon shining brightly in the ink-like abyss above before he realized that all had been taken care of. His thumb traced along his left clavicle, moving softly across the skin from the acromial end to the sternal end, he changed to his fore and middle finger before tapping softly against the skin covering his sternum. It was calming, in a strange way. An act he’d seen done before by another to another.

“Lo?”, a small voice asked, soft as a whisper and breathless as someone who’d run a day across the desert.

“Anthony?”, Logan asked back, slightly surprised to see his younger brother standing at the back door waiting for his return. Anthony rubbed at his eyes, obviously still sleepy, but attempting to appear not to be. “What are you doing up?”, the elder asked as he neared the younger, bending down as the dark-haired boy embraced his brother’s head and shoulders.

“Didn’t know where you’d gone. Got scared. Please don’t leave me like that again”, Anthony whispered softly and Logan’s heart broke at how sad and desperate the plea sounded. Logan wrapped his arms around Anthony’s stomach, pulling the boy closer to him and kissing his forehead softly.

“Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you anytime soon”, Logan muttered into his brother’s hair. Anthony’s hands tangled in his brother’s soft strands, the boys cried silently, tears pouring down their faces in anguish at having lost their father. 

“Don’t leave me alone”, Anthony pleaded while Logan shushed his cries and cradled his head in his chest.

“I won’t. I won’t”, the elder promised, taking the time to pepper his brother’s scalp with kisses. They were gentle, barely there with how soft they were, how gently they were pressed to the mess of black hair. But they were appreciated greatly, returned tenfold by the younger who vehemently pressed his own quivering lips to his brother’s cheek. Tears mixed together, falling down soft cheeks as the silence built up. The night was near halfway when finally, the aching quiet was broken by a sob of remorse. 

“You’ll leave though”, Anthony murmured, rolling his shoulders and pushing his body away from his brother’s chest, “You’ll leave, because you have to. You have to… to… to help people. You have to keep people safe.”

“And you will too. Now… now that… I can take you with me if you want”, Logan offered, voice small as he lifted a hand to Anthony’s cheek and wiped a trail of salt water from the round, brown orb. 

“I… I want to, but…”, Anthony hesitated as the words he wanted to say left him, tears falling once more.

“But what? We can sell the house, sell the property, sell the fruit and the horses and you can travel with Roman and myself. You don’t have to fight… but I don’t want to leave you alone here… I don’t want to leave you alone ever again”, Logan said quietly, his own voice steady with suppressed sorrow.

“No… I don’t… I don’t want to sell this place off… but I don’t want you to leave me alone either”, Anthony mused gently, taking his brother’s unsteady hand in his own and pressing his face into the calloused flesh.

“Then… then I’ll stay. Roman can take care of the hunting business himself. I don’t want to sell this off either, so… I’ll stay”, Logan reasoned, moving his other hand up to wipe the second trail of tears from his brother’s face.

“You can’t do that. People need you”, Anthony cried softly, tears once more welling in his eyes, saline water dripping from the ducts and splashing down his cheeks.

“You need me more”, Logan muttered, pulling his brother’s head to his chest and hushing the boy as the soft hands clasped his shirt for dear life.

“I don’t, I swear. Other people need you more than I do”, Anthony cried, voice muffled by Logan’s once dry shirt.

“No, they don’t. Roman can handle it and I promised… I promised him I’d marry by the end of the month”, Logan murmured, chin finding Anthony’s head and resting atop it softly. 

“You’re… you’re staying then?”, Anthony asked, voice filled with hope, however, muffled it sounded.

“Yes. Yes, I’m staying”, Logan confirmed as he closed his eyes, peace falling over the household as the two brothers held each other, harmony hanging heavy over their heads.

It took a while for the pair to calm enough to stand properly, holding hands as they entered the living room, standing and looking around in a daze before the younger tugged the elder up the stairs and to their rooms. Anthony pulled Logan into the small room and the pair huddled on the bed, laying down to hold each other through the night. 

The moon cast an eerie glow through the window, illuminating the elder's features as he faced his brother. They lay in silence, breathing in tandem with one another while the stars twinkled overhead like several million eyes looking down upon the two, waiting for their next move.

“Logan?”, Anthony asked, voice echoing gently in the room. Logan shifted and blinked owlishly at the younger Lilac, light brown eyes meeting his brother’s dark ones.

“Yes?”, Logan asked, feeling a little sleepy as the night sky became dotted with sparse, thin clouds. The tinge of morning gracing the world, tinting the inky abyss and dissolving the stars with the light of the sun.

“Who are you choosing?”, Anthony questioned and Logan looked up and out of the window for a moment.

“Who am I choosing for what?”, the eldest Lilac asked, yawning slightly as sleep began to sink into his mind, clouding and fogging his sight and head.

“Who are you marrying?”, Anthony asked back, eyes stuck to his brother’s fluttering eyelids, sleep obviously trying to take over.

“I don’t know. Probably Thomas. Good night little Ant”, Logan muttered, pressing a soft kiss to Anthony’s temple as the light of the sun began to change the sky, navy changing to cobalt blue.

“Thomas… Saderson? Really? Logan? Logan?”, Anthony called, realizing his brother was asleep before sighing and sitting up. His back bent as he looked over to his pistol’s hiding place, eyes trained on the glint of metal that the sun hit ever so slightly. Something was off about that man, he knew that for sure. He’d always been sure of that. What, he did not know. Why he did not know. But he did know that Saderson was shady. The man had this lingering sense of death, that Logan couldn’t seem to pick up on. Maybe Anthony was better at sensing it, maybe his brother was numbed to it due to the man’s wiles and charms. But whatever the case Anthony, married or not, Thomas was a dead man if he stepped one toe out of line. Anthony promised himself that if Roman couldn’t take care of Logan and David couldn’t take care of Logan, then he’d take care of Logan. 

Anthony placed a quivering hand to his cheek before pressing it over his mouth to quiet the small cry that escaped it. David… David was dead. The only father and family he’d ever had, apart from Logan, was dead. The only person who’d promised to always be there was dead. David Lilac was dead and there was no changing that. This day would forever be tainted with sadness and grief. 

The younger glanced back at his brother, slumbering peacefully on his bed, face drawn out in calm lines. He looked so peaceful, so gentle and kind like this. As if he hadn’t just lost the only other member of his family. As if his father hadn’t just died. As if the man that Anthony had spent so much time alone with was still with them. It made Anthony angry. Angry that his brother could be so calm. Angry that his brother could sleep. Angry that his brother could lay there so happily. But the anger was gone in a second because he couldn’t be mad at Logan. He could never hate, or despise, or be angry at his brother. Because Logan was Logan, and as many times as the hunter had left, as many times as he had sent himself into battle with little regard to his own safety, Anthony couldn’t be mad at him. They were brothers after all.


	13. The Unlucky Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is extremely unlucky and no one knows what to do about it.
> 
> \- Thomas is holding the hero group hostage  
> \- Virgil is dying inside  
> \- Joan is done with all of this  
> \- Anthony is also done with this  
> \- Logan, Roman, and Patton are a tad oblivious  
> And Thomas is trying to make a plan B instead of full-on hurting his husband to be... good times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting this here since sometimes people read these little notes: There is foul language in this chapter and I'm going to change this story from general to teen if it's not teen already.
> 
> So, this one's a little longer because you guys deserve it. I'm also a little late on posting this, sorry. I know I said Tuesday, but time got away from me and hey, it's still Tuesday somewhere when I'm posting this so... Along with that, I will probably only do a few more chapters before ending this story, so if you have any grievances or acknowledgments or want to be featured in the thank you section or just want a shoutout or anything like that, leave me something and I'll pop you in here. You have maybe three more chapters to change the course of the story and I think we all know just how big of a change can happen in one chapter let alone three. 
> 
> Thank you to the two guests, Kitsunechan, PoisonHw and IHearttheHitachiinTwins who left me kudos, along with a thank you to XxTearfulChildxX who commented on my last chapter.
> 
> Now, the moment you've all (sorta) been waiting for: Chapter 13 of this long as fic. Enjoy :D

Virgil had never really acknowledged how unlucky he was until he awoke being carried on the back of a horse with his wrists and ankles tied together. It was the single most uncomfortable thing the outlaw had ever experienced and what made matters worse was the fact that by judging the position of the sun and his surroundings he deduced that whoever was carrying him was carrying him away from Akers town. Virgil shimmed a little, trying to figure out how secured he was on the horse’s back. He figured out that he was merely perched on the horse’s rear, nothing holding him to the horse but gravity and his once placid, unconscious body. At this point in time Virgil tried to think up a plan, but due to his overall exhaustion, the sun’s blindingly hot rays, and the fact he was still bleeding from the wound he had incurred, he found himself slowly falling prey to the abyss of unconsciousness. His last thought until he finally slipped was that nothing he encountered ever again could be worse than what he was feeling right now.

The outlaw awoke to darkness. Virgil gnawed his lip lightly as he tried to figure out why he could no longer feel the sun’s heat and the horse’s bony body. With a swimming mind and tired eyes, the outlaw looked around, finding himself upright and perched against a wall. With a sigh, Virgil tipped his head back into the wall, closing his eyes as the world swam. Colors seemed to fade into one another, black dots dancing across his vision as a heat pooled in his veins. He was uncomfortable, but certainly not half as tired as he had been previously. The outlaw slowly opened his eyes again, blinking slowly as the world came more into focus as his body froze up. He felt sick before, but the sickening feeling he felt now was almost doubled as he recognized where he was – Thomas’ office. They were all the way out at Joan’s bar and what was worse, Virgil was the only one in the room, slumped against one of the walls with his wound rebadged and seen to. 

“Well, well, well. Seems my little black sheep is finally awake enough to explain himself”, a voice taunted and Virgil’s head whipped to the desk where his employer sat, cold calculating eyes roaming the employee only a few feet from him. Virgil felt nausea build as the quick motion made his head spin, Thomas’ grin only making him feel sicker.

“I don’t… have to explain… shit to you”, Virgil breathed out, dropping his head to his chest before pushing it into the wall as he tried to breathe through the queasy feelings he was receiving. Thomas chuckled softly, voice reverberating through the office space as he pulled open a drawer at his desk. Virgil winced as his employer struck a match against the desk, a single orange flame flickering to life, casting a warm glow on his fingertips. 

“No wonder I picked you. Defiant and stubborn as hell”, Thomas muttered as the outlaw closed his eyes, trying to shut out the light of the match. Virgil heard a creak then footsteps trampling across the hardwood floor towards him. The glow danced in front of his closed eyelids while the warmth trickled off both the match head and Thomas. Virgil pushed himself back into the wall as much as he could.

“Get away from me”, the employee growled lowly, swallowing as the heat of the match and the glowing grew, closing in on his face.

“You have no power here, Virgil. No one has any power here. All your little friends are locked up, and no one is going to stop me from getting what I want”, Thomas whispered, voice so thick and full of delight that Virgil could practically feel the smugness radiating off him. His employer’s breath was hot, the match’s flame twitching and dancing about with the sudden air being blown past it. Virgil opened his eyes a little, glaring at his former employer as the man’s smirk grew a tad, eyes darkening with ill intent. 

“Where are they?”, Virgil asked, feeling stupid for asking such a question, but hoping to anyone above that Thomas had not hurt the people he’d grown to know over the past few months. Thomas’ eyes crinkled at the edges with joy, smug delight and acidic happiness pouring from every crevice of his being like a waterfall of disgusting, putrid malice filled glee. It seemed to drip off him, pouring forth into the candle which seemed to dim to match the mood of the situation Virgil was in. It sputtered once or twice, Thomas’ fingers readjusting themselves so he wouldn’t burn them.

“Nowhere you’d be able to get to in a hurry, that’s for sure”, Thomas murmured as his smirk turned to a grin, Cheshire like with almost pointed teeth in the light of the match. It was an eerie sight and one the outlaw would not soon forget or wish to remember. 

“Are they safe?”, Virgil breathed out feeling as if the air in the room was suddenly stale and suffocating. His breath caught in his throat, constricting him, cutting off his breathing with a stale, dusty taste. The staleness lined his throat, willing him to drink water as the urge to cough and sputter fought the urge to remain strong in his captor’s eyes. 

“As safe as one can be tied up in the dark with no food, water or basic necessities”, Thomas replied, eyebrows tilting down and grin souring. Virgil almost shivered at the unnerving display of happiness from the obvious pain the man was inflicting upon the three others Virgil had been traveling with.

“Leave them out of this. They had no part in this scheme of yours”, Virgil growled, trying to act as if the light of the match mixed with his employer’s dark office and darker expression didn’t scare him as much as it did. The outlaw pushed forward a little, feeling at the binding ropes around his wrists and ankles. 

“Oh, but they do. They helped you and they know of my plans, no? They are part of this now, whether you intended them to be or not”, Thomas said, a smirk dancing on his lips as he eyed the slowly lightening sky beyond the window of his office. The match burned low, but bright enough that he was still illuminated. Stars were vanishing, but should the match extinguish, Thomas knew the office would be thrown into complete darkness. 

“I didn’t mean for them to follow me. Let them leave, they’ll do you no harm, I swear”, Virgil pursued softly, eyes darting from the match to his employer who merely smiled a little at the attempt to persuade him into changing his mind.

“I assure you, Virgil. No harm shall befall them, Joan is my friend after all and I would not risk losing them. The other two I do not care for, but Lilac cares for them and them him. I need them here away from him until my plans succeed. After that they will be free to try and change his mind to their heart's content, but I can assure you”, Thomas paused, moving a little closer to Virgil, the match nearly at the end of its wooden stick, “they will not undo what will be done. I always get my way and once Logan is mine, there will be no changing his mind.” Virgil shivered a little at the cold words, their icy daggers digging into his heart ferociously. Thomas smirked at his employee seemed to finally realize the weight of his situation, determination and will crashing to the ground and burning like Crow Ridge. It was like a gigantic theatre production, illustrated by his employee just for him. If Saderson was being honest it was a little heart-warming. If he had a heart that was. The thought made him chuckle a little before he looked at the match, smirked and plunged the room into darkness with a pinch of his fingers. His flesh burned momentarily, but it was gone as he wiped his fingers on his pants and stood, moving towards the door and opening it. 

Virgil looked up, but his head dropped as the light from the bar illuminated his tired, wounded body. Thomas laughed softly, almost fondly, before exiting the room, taking the light with him along with Virgil’s hopes of ever getting out of Joan’s bar before the wedding. Water brimmed in his eyes as the outlaw leaned forward a little, muffling his pained sobs in his knees. He didn’t even know why he was crying or who he was crying for. Was he crying for the others, captured by his employer and trapped here with him? Was he crying for the people of Akers town who would no doubt wither into decline under Thomas’ rule? Perhaps he was crying for himself, knowing he would most likely die here in Thomas’ office. Or maybe… maybe he was crying for the Lilacs, who would suffer the most of those to be affected by Thomas’ plan.

Who he was crying for, he didn’t know, but he did know he was hurt; physically and emotionally. It was like knives stabbing at his heart, pins running their pointed ends over the muscle, hands ripping it to shreds before bunching it up and pulling it until it tore again and again. The pain made him cry more than before, the two separate sources mixing together. Stones scratching at his bullet wound while his heart seared with a fiery heat, rather like to separate attacks that culminated in an indescribably sickening pain. Virgil gasped out a tearful cry, breath catching in his throat as he forced his head back into the wall, trying to drown the pain out. His breath continued to catch over and over until he finally made a choking sound that forced him to breathe normally. He felt the pain of his body hitting the floor before he recognized that he was now laying against the wood planks. He cried out, not from the pain of wood meeting his shoulder and wound, but from the pain that his heart and head supplied. 

Voices whispered nasty things in his ears, forcing him to listen as they tore at his mind and pride. His walls broke down, collapsing and cracking like glass instead of bricks or stone. Shards of his broken walls dug deeper and deeper into his mind and heart while his tears made tracks of shining silver on his red cheeks, flushed from the cries that now drove his throat hoarse. He scraped his nails along his arms, cheeks, legs, whatever portion of his body he could reach because he’d rather be feeling physical pain right now, than any other pain that whipped his soul to shreds.

 

Fortune never seemed to smile upon Joan. First, they owned a bar for outlaws that got raided more than five times in a single month. And when Joan finally found a friend to confide in, Talyn – slightly shorter than they were but just as jovial – they found something rotten to counteract this sweet victory; outlaw hunters had decided to check out bars and raided theirs. Then they had found out Thomas’ plans to destroy their hometown, and in return, fate had finally gifted then a small saving grace in the form of finding Roman. Finally, they had thought that nothing could go wrong; they were hungover, sore, tired and sweaty, but they were on their way to Logan’s rescue – surely that was enough of a balance, but no fate had to be so cruel as to allow their capture at Thomas’ hand. 

Joan bit the inside of their cheek and growled softly, eyes narrowing at the back of the door they were sat opposite. Thomas had given them a small amount of wiggle room compared to Patton and Roman, and Joan was hoping to use this to their advantage. There was, however, one small problem in this, that being that the only two other prisoners – or were they hostages? – were out cold on the floor and unhelpfully deep sleepers. They’d have thought Roman, being an outlaw hunter, would have the decency to be a light sleeper especially with how many enemies he must have made over the years, but it was quickly becoming apparent that Roman suffered no such changes and that Logan must be the lighter sleeper of the two.

Words could not accurately describe how vexed and irate the awake bartender was with the revelation that not only were they the only one awake, but they were perhaps in the company of the worlds heaviest sleepers who had only had a few hours’ sleep in the past couple of days and would most likely sleep quite a long time to make up for that. Joan sighed heavily and pushed their legs out, if they were going to be here for a while they might as well get comfortable.

“Joan, my good friend”, a voice said as light flooded the small back room of the bar from the doorway. Joan winced but otherwise didn’t seem anything but disinterested in the sudden appearance of their former friend and customer.

“Thomas”, Joan grumbled out, shifting around a little as they tried to get more comfortable against the wall, hissing a little as a rope burn began to form on their wrists.

“Come now, what’s with the attitude? Look, I came to give you some food and water and… and ask for advice. I don’t want to keep you here, but I can’t have you running off and ruining my plans”, Thomas said softly, crouching down in front of the bartender and setting a tray of bread and water on the floor. Joan’s eyes adjusted to the light a little bit at a time until they could see the outline of a rather high-end suit adorning the man before them.

“What’s with the getup? Why do you want advice from me?”, Joan asked, glaring at Saderson softly with an eyebrow arched in question. Thomas took this moment to sigh and motion for Joan to move closer and turn around.

“Look, I need to court Logan Lilac. I know you know who he is and I don’t know why you’re helping them, but I need to court him for the good of all outlaws. See, I need advice on how to court him. I’ve done everything I can think of and then some, but I need your opinion on how to make him fall for me. I… I’m having doubts on hurting him and I need a plan B in case I can’t go through with plan A”, Thomas explained and he untied and retied Joan’s hands so they were now in front of their chest instead of behind their back. Joan inched forward away from their old friend, turning and taking their place against the wall once more.

“So, you want me to help you find a way to hurt my best friend from my childhood?”, Joan asked slowly. Thomas froze before groaning and slapping his hands over his face.

“Oh, my… Joan I… oh, man… I didn’t- I didn’t know I… look, I’m sorry”, Thomas muttered as he fell back a little into a sitting position, sighing and running his hands over his face. “When… I… no wonder you’re with them.”

“Yeah, no wonder I’m with the group of people out to keep my childhood best friend from being majorly injured”, Joan said, giving Thomas a soft glare while the man huffed a small laugh and groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Joan. Really, I am. I didn’t even think… I didn’t know… jeez. Look, I… for you I won’t hurt him, but that means I need a plan B. I need to properly court him and make him fall in love with me. If that happens I don’t need to worry about anything else. He’ll stay in Akers town and I can travel back and forth doing what I usually do”, Thomas said softly, trying to persuade the bartender into helping him. Joan closed their eyes and tilted their head back in thought. A minute passed by while they sat in silence, each thinking over what Thomas had just asked of the bartender.

Joan let out a small groan, “fine, I’ll help you. But I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. You have to leave Roman, Patton, Virgil, and Anthony out of this. Once this is over you let all of us go and you get yourself a new bar to run your little business out of. I don’t want to see your face around my bar ever again, understand?”

“Understood”, Thomas murmured, eyes downcast as sadness washed over him. 

“Good, now first off you need to do something nice. Have you done that?”

“I gave him a book and flowers before our first arranged date. Is that good?”

“I suppose it’ll have to do. What else?”

“I gave him a stone from the river bed to commemorate our first date together.”

“Sentimental, he’d have liked that. Go on.”

“Then I… well… I tried to kill Virgil after I poisoned his father, Logan’s father not Virgil’s father” Thomas muttered. Joan’s face darkened and they kicked a leg out, striking Thomas’ right shin and causing the man to cry out in pain. 

“Ow! What was that for?”, Thomas asked as he rubbed the skin and bone of his leg. 

“You killed his father. I may not have been David Lilac’s greatest fan, but even I wouldn’t think you’d stoop that low. You killed someone for Logan’s affections… and I’m pretty sure David Lilac would have liked you too. What on earth are you going to say when Logan finds out what you did?”, Joan asked, giving their friend a look that seemed to be a cross between frustrated and disbelieving. 

“I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal and chill, he’s not going to find out”, Thomas murmured before crying out as Joan’s foot struck his left shin this time, “what is your deal?”

“He’s going to find out. He always does, then you’ll have to have him pretty tightly wound around your little finger or he will kill you. He doesn’t take kindly to family killers. I can’t believe you went so far as to murder David Lilac”, Joan hissed in a hushed whisper. Thomas sighed as he rubbed both of his shins, head falling onto the tops of his knees as he drew them in. 

“He was pretty cut up about it… I… I didn’t think I’d feel that bad about it but seeing him like that…”, Thomas trailed off while Joan leaned back with a small groan.

“What’d you expect. You killed someone. It’s different when you kill someone that likes you, isn’t it? You betrayed David’s trust and in return betrayed Logan’s. Now you want to make amends by not hurting him… am I right?”, Joan asked and Thomas gave them a nod. 

“Sounds about right… so you’ll help me?”

“I don’t really have a choice. I either let you fatally wound him or let him kill you. One way or the other I’ll be pissed off at one of you.”

“Help me and I’ll let you go see him… I’m not letting anyone else near him. I might be bad, but those people… the denizens of Akers town are way worse. They were practically swarming Logan at his father’s funeral, like… it was like they were begging him to give them his money. I can’t believe some people. I mean… at a funeral, his father’s funeral no less. They couldn’t let him have one day to process it all before they set on him like vultures.”

“That’s Akers town for you. Most of the people are descended from outlaws, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe it. Greedy, filthy, dirty little thieves with no right to-”

“Hey, calm down. You’re getting a bit worked up over this.”

“I just… they all... it’s so frustrating that they can do that to him and his brother. Anthony may be a little over the top, but neither of them deserves that.”

“Says the one who killed their father.”

“One-time thing.”

“Will be because they don’t have another.”

“Hey, I’m trying to… look advice. Help me court him, I’ll marry him, keep him away from everything, and we can go back to living our lives. Okay?”

Joan paused for a minute before nodding and reaching out to Thomas’ outstretched hand, “okay.”

 

“Lo, wake up”, Anthony whined, grabbing at his brother’s shirt and pulling the cloth closer to his smaller body, frowning when the action did little to wake his brother. Anthony pulled harder, successfully knocking himself off his own bed, landing hard on his back and letting out a cry of pain that caused Logan to sit bolt upright. The elder of the siblings winced as Anthony groaned and turned over onto his side, running a hand over his back gently while Logan gave him a pitying look and moved to get off Anthony’s bed.

“I’m sorry, Ant. Are you okay?”, Logan asked, eyes looking less red than yesterday but cheeks still holding some of the blush from the crying. Anthony looked up as his brother dropped into a crouch, knees hitting the floor so he could kneel by his brother’s head.

“Fine”, Anthony breathed out, still a little winded from the experience, but regaining the necessary amount of air quickly. Logan sighed as concern and worry eased out of his body, but he remained a little stiff and rigid as he bent over a little, face and shoulders obscuring the sun’s radiant light from Anthony’s face.

“Good. So, you want to go out and shoot today?”, Logan asked with a soft smile, attempting to lighten the mood as Anthony rolled over onto his knees and elbows, pushing his body up off the floor and into his own kneeling position. 

“Thought you were going to propose today?”, Anthony asked, regretting it as Logan’s expression turned sour for a second, smile back a moment later while his eyes retained some sadness at the idea. 

“Thomas can wait. Don’t you want to spend some time together before I have to be married off?”, Logan asked, body relaxing and drooping a little as Anthony heard his breath catch.

“Of course, I do. Let’s eat and go”, Anthony answered with a smile, standing and offering his brother a hand up which the elder took gratefully. The black-haired boy sighed silently in relief as the light seemed to return to his brother’s eyes with a vengeance. Logan wiped off his pants before leaving the room, a thin layer of dust coating the grey material from the floor. “And take a bath before we go. You stink, Lo”, Anthony called out to the sound of a shout of laughter from the bottom of the stairs. 

“I will if you will”, Logan called back, voice lighter with laughter and joviality. Anthony rolled his dark eyes before grabbing a spare change of clothes and venturing out of his room into the dark hallway.

The bathroom hadn’t been touched in ages. Old pale blue door and dull brass handle nestled innocently within a white doorframe and cream walls. There were stains on the blue paint; rusty brown washed out with small speckles of a darker brown that littered the top as if a bucket of water had been poured sparingly across the top of it and the water left to sit until it dried into a mess of brown and blue. The inside wasn’t much better; a small room, not much bigger than a large pantry, painted with the same blue as the door and lit by a single window high above all else set opposite the door. There was a cabinet painted white that stood across from the bath, a small also white tub made of metal that burned with hot water and chilled with cold. The floor was a dark, dusty wood reminiscent of walnut, but not nearly as nice. It was deteriorating, small spikes and splinters sticking up in an unseemly and unsafe fashion while portions began to rot away turning pale, sickly almost. It was cracking, falling apart but Anthony couldn’t help but love it.

It took no more than two minutes for Anthony to fish out the salts from the cabinet, gather some herbs from the garden and drop them all into the tub. What took him longer, however, was the collection of water. The house was old, the bathroom sitting further from the kitchen than the living room and thus making the duty of gathering water an extra hard job to complete as taking the water from the pump to the tub meant carrying the bucket through the kitchen and hallway to the bathroom. This was tricky as it was a long walk, with a heavy bucket which was then filled with water thus bath times were usually reserved for special times or for when Anthony had help carrying the bucket to the tub. He wasn’t nearly as strong as his older brother or late father had been, arms and knees buckling under the weight of the water-filled bucket, however, he did his best to carry the bucket without spilling its contents. 

Half an hour later he was much sweatier and twice as done with the job as he had been to start with. The bath was half full, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that the water only reached halfway up his shins when he was standing in the tub. Nor did he care about how cold the water was, it was more pleasant than anything in the heat of the desert, so he accepted it with open arms. This action left him a shivering mess at the end of the bath time. A shivering, cold, but satisfyingly clean mess that now smelled strongly of rosemary and the imported lavender soap they’d bought from Thomas. Maybe once Logan was married to him they’d be able to get stuff like that for free.

“Done?”, Logan asked as Anthony padded into the kitchen, hair stuck to the sides of his face as he buttoned up his shirt, tongue sticking out in concentration. Logan turned around, facing his brother now rather than the stove as he eyed up the younger of the two boys in the room. “I’ll take the silence as a yes then. Here, I made breakfast”, Logan said as he took a seat at the small wooden table and pushed Anthony’s breakfast towards the opposite chair. Logan dropped some silverware onto the table next to the plate of eggs, tomatoes and lightly toasted bread as he brother sat down, still trying to button up his shirt.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Lo”, Anthony said with a smile, momentarily forgetting his shirt as the smell of freshly cooked tomatoes and eggs washed over him. He dug into the food as Logan sat back, a bemused expression on his face as a few tomato seeds flew off the plate and onto the tablecloth. Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head a little at the action, but otherwise kept quiet while his brother ate. Anthony slowed his grazing to look up at his brother, food left untouched in front of him. “You’re giving me a head start, are you?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Better eat quick, because either way I’ll win this little match between us”, Logan mumbled and Anthony’s attention returned to his plate, scoffing down as much of the food as he could before he heard the sound of silverware clattering against china. He looked up in time to see his brother’s eggs gone along with the toast and the tomatoes being steadily devoured. With the flair of a prince, Logan proceeded to wipe his mouth and stand, washing his plate while his brother stared at him. Logan stretched and turned back to his brother. “I’m going to have my bath, then we’ll head off. Clean up here, will you?”

“Uh… uh, yeah… yeah sure”, Anthony mouthed as Logan walked past him and up the stairs to his room, returning moments later with his clothes and a book.

“I’ll be in the bath if you need me”, Logan said softly, turning down the hall to the bathroom, before returning with a bucketful of dirty water. Anthony continued to eat, slower this time as Logan moved swiftly behind him, draining the bath and refilling it. On his final run, Logan stopped in the field to gather his herb of choice while Anthony began the clean-up.

Fifteen minutes later Logan was dressed, glasses pressing gently into the bridge and sides of his nose, smelling of sage, lavender, and mint. His hair was dryer than Anthony’s, even after the younger had been out of the bath for a half hour. It was tidier too, like his lifestyle and nature. He gave Anthony a smile as the younger took the tablecloth off the table and walked to the sink with it, filling up a bucket and grabbing some soap so he could scrub the white linen back to its natural color. Logan began to help out, moving to and fro within the kitchen with a broom and duster. Even while cleaning he looked the picture of a scholar, retaining his posture and stoic mask. 

The sun beamed down upon the two, hot white rays blinding them as they hung the tablecloth on the washing line; two strings strung between a set of poles. They returned to get their clothing, cleaning and setting the grey, white and black fabric out to dry with the cloth. Logan wiped his forehead and turned to his brother, sweat causing the fabric of their shirts to stick to their backs, leaving them feeling less clean and more uncomfortable than right after taking their baths. The elder tilted his head and glanced at the sun, no longer high in the sky now as it began to set. The sky was not yet painted with the colors of sunset, but the day was drawing to a close and with it their hopes of spending time together before Logan was married off. Logan swallowed and walked back inside the house, Anthony shaking his head and trailing after him.

“How does pancakes sound for dinner?”, Logan asked, though in truth he knew it was closer to lunch than dinner.

“Sounds great”, Anthony said, taking a seat at the table as he watched his brother make the batter and heat the pan. He’d miss this, but they had to move on. 

The two were startled from their thoughts by a knock on the door. Three succinct knocks that reverberated around the house like thunder. Loud and imposing, full of purpose.

“Get the door, please”, Logan murmured, turning one of the pancakes in the hot pan and glancing at his brother. Anthony gave him a nod, standing and walking down the hallway. His heart beat heavily, quickening with each step. His hand reached for the door and he prayed that whoever was behind this door would be kind enough to leave once they saw how frazzled the two were, especially after their father’s passing. But upon opening the door he knew he’d have no such luck.


	14. Fixing Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and blood and hurt/comfort. Also mention of a knife so...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been a week and we're back with another chapter :) It's the afternoon and I'm running on 5+ hours sleep. I did most of this, this morning at 2 am. I can't think of a good title or chapter summary right now :(
> 
> I'd like to thank the 6 guests and Toasty_Waffles, who all left me kudos between my last update and this one. And also the comments left by Toasty_Waffles and XxTearfulChildxX (lowkeysalient :) )
> 
> I don't have too much to say except that it's only a few weeks until Christmas/Hanukkah/holidays and there is probably only going to be two more chapters of this. So, that means I'm going to be working my butt off to get the last two out before I go to see family. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter and I'll see you next week :)

Patton awoke with a splitting headache, sore everything and a need to stretch. Upon realizing he could not stretch, however, he opted for opening his eyes to the blurry world of not having his glasses on. Everything swam in inky black, punctuated with small bits of dull brown and a shining silver. Patton rolled over, eyes scanning for anything that was completely in focus as he blinked and tried to regain full consciousness. After a few minutes and a lot of shifting the bartender concluded that both his wrists and ankles were tied together tightly, though not enough to cut off circulation which he was sincerely thankful for.

The bartender wiggled around a bit more, squinting into the dark as he tried to figure out where on earth he was and how he got to wherever here was. It took a while for him to find the wall, crawling his way around the dark room as the wood floor hindered any progress he tried to make. His head had hit the wooden wall first and he’d quickly pulled away not knowing what he’d found. After feeling around, he realized it was indeed a wall, solid and high, and with a little more wiggling he was able to position himself against it. He heaved a sigh, pushing out and breathing in gulps of air as he tried to remain still. 

The sound of soft snoring and the murmur he recognized so well penetrated the loud pumping sound his heart was making. Now Patton was sure he wasn’t alone in this room. He’d never be able to mistake Roman’s sleepy murmurings for anything and the thought that the man was here with him made him smile fondly. If they got out of here he’d apologize. Apologise for the argument, for being angry, for comparing the hunter to Thomas. 

Patton sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest as close as he could, shifting around as his hands rubbed against the wall. The wood was rougher than the floor, proving it to not be as well-worn as the floorboards, yet it was smoothed in the way that the aging of the wood and time would naturally allow. Patton closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, sniffing the air for anything; dust, dirt, water, alcohol… alcohol. He opened his eyes and let a small smirk fall onto his lips, he’d know that musky, tangy, sweet yet sour and bitter scent of alcoholic beverages anywhere. He’d been around it long enough for it to almost before one with him – combining with the lavender and overpowering it. He was never able to fully scrub it out, the scent lingering on his skin and in his brown locks for days after a bath and without once visiting his bar. He wondered if he’d become numb to the scent that clung to him like a small child to its parents. More than once one of his customers or friends had complained, politely stating that he smelled too strongly of what he sold and that he should consider bathing more often. A rude acknowledgment, but one he took as a compliment to his business and ability to sell – though later that day he’d more than likely wander about the general store to find another brand of soap that smelt stronger than what he had bought not two weeks prior.

Light flooded a section of his view, the bright orange flickering of a candle accompanied by the light of the sun. The figure in the doorway was blurry, but Patton had figured out it was Thomas by the way he had composed himself. Standing tall against the flood of sunlight, holding his candle out to illuminate the rest of the room. Patton squeezed his eyes shut, the bright lights hurting his eyes that had gotten used to the darkness of the room. Something warm neared his face and Patton opened his eyes a little, peeking through his eyelashes to look at the man in front of him. Thomas looked at him, almost directly in the eye, but he blinked and his eyes swept around the room while Patton took in a shallow breath, holding it before letting it slide out softly. He breathed softly, trying to mimic Roman’s soft breathing, hoping Thomas would assume he was asleep. Eventually, the candle’s light moved away from him, the soft creaking of rotted wood following the diminishing light source. 

“Here they are… I… I’m sorry you got mixed up in all of this”, Thomas muttered a little way away and Patton looked towards him, noticing the blurry figure was standing near Roman, holding something in his right hand with the candle dripping wax into the metal dish he held in his left. He could smell the burn of the wick, the waxy scent that mixed with the molded, rotting wood and the distinct tang of alcohol. 

Patton bit his lip, closing his eyes as he heard the floorboards creak, moving closer to him until the candle’s heat was upon him once more. It flickered once, twice before leaving, the sound of metal being set on wood and the feel of heat near his leg indicated that Thomas had set the candle down. He almost jumped then as something cold and metal was placed gently on his face. Frames and glass as cold as ice chilled his flushed skin as he pretended to sleep. Thomas’ breath lingered on his cheeks as the outlaw boss adjusted his glasses slightly, pulling back and picking the candle up once more. A single hand racked gently through Patton’s sot locks before the man stood and began to walk away. The footsteps halted at the door, a sigh escaping Thomas before he shut the door behind him, taking the light and heat with him. 

Patton almost crumbled in relief, eyes opening and slowly adjusting as his glasses began to rein in the blurriness of the room around him. His eyes moved from left to right, checking around the room until his eyes landed on the figure he knew so well from nights spent at his bar. Roman’s chest heaved softly as if there were no danger around and knowing him the man was most likely in that state of mind – unaware of the danger that he and Patton were facing. As Patton’s eyes adjusted to the darkness around him he noticed the barrels lining the walls their metal hoops and rivets shining dully in the dark. He took in the dark – yet readable – insignias and titles printed on the side of a few barrels. Most of the barrels in here were for things he didn’t stock as there was no way to get it without paying a hefty price for delivery. So, it made sense that he and Roman were in either Joan’s or Talyn’s bar. Talyn had disagreed with Thomas’ plans and Joan… Joan had been with them. 

Patton’s head spun to look around, finding another sleeping figure in the dark this one being propped against a wall of their own. Joan was sleeping rather peacefully and Patton wondered if he could wake the other bartender with a well-positioned kick or by crawling over to them. Patton thought for a little before settling on just waiting, it was only a matter of time before Joan awoke and then the two could plan their escape from Thomas’ clutches. 

It wasn’t until he’d settled into a comfortable position that he remembered why they had been taken in the first place. Logan was in danger and they were running low on time. Crawling it was. Patton pushed off the wall, letting his glasses fall askew on his face as he pushed himself towards the unconscious body in front of him. He bit his lip as splinters began to drive into his skin, biting into him with a vengeance until he stopped and turned onto his back, breathing heavily and digging the soles of his boots into the floor. He pushed himself backward a few times, ramming his head into Joan’s boot and letting out a small cry of pain that had the bartender awake in seconds. 

“What the… who?”, Joan began, looking down at their feet and finding Patton’s eyes. The man gave him a small grin and pushed himself around Joan, trying his best to find his lost footing as he moved from Joan’s feet to the wall the bartender was slumped against.

“Glad you’re alright”, Patton whispered and Joan gave the man a once over, tutting softly and leaning over a bit to look at the splinter wounds.

“You should have been more careful, but… I’m glad you weren’t”, Joan murmured looking around at the floor for any kind of tweezing object they could use to take the darn wood pieces out. They found nothing and pushed back into the wall disheartened by the lack of caring equipment. Then an idea struck them, smiling softly at the thought. “Pat, I… I’m not feeling well right now. I’d like to sleep if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh… oh, yes, right”, Patton mumbled, saddened by the news but electing to take it in stride as he always did.

“Maybe you should get some sleep too. I’m sure Thomas won’t hurt us, we’re too important to Logan for him to harm”, Joan reasoned, internally slumping with relief as Patton curled up beside them, eyelids dancing shut and open in a rapid succession. Joan pet the soft hair of their fellow bartender before sighing softly, letting their head fall back into the wall as Patton’s heartbeat decelerated and his breathing softened. Joan shook their head before swallowing. “Thomas!”

The outlaw hunter pushed the door open softly, eyeing Joan and Patton as the awake bartender eyed him, “yes?”

“I’ll help you properly, but first I need tweezers”, Joan explained softly. Thomas walked over and crouched down next to them, running a hand through his hair and looking over Patton’s limp body.

“Who got hurt and where are the wounds?”, Thomas asked as he stood and proceeded to walk out of the room, door open behind him.

“Patton and all over his front. Splinters from the floor”, Joan said and Thomas sighed from the counter of the bar, returning with a light source and a pair of tweezers.

“I’ll do it, I’ve always been a little better at it than you. You just look him over and tell me where they are so I can ease them out without him waking up”, Thomas muttered and Joan nodded, slowly running a hand over Patton’s right arm and wincing a little as Patton shifted, face contorting into a frown.

“Wrist, right arm. Outer elbow, right arm”, Joan murmured softly as Thomas moved around the two and took Patton’s arm into his lap gently, beginning the process of extricating the tiny pieces of wood from the man in need. “Upper shoulder, right arm. Collarbone, right arm… how’d he even get that up there?”, Joan ran a hand over Patton’s other arm, calling out places and points before moving to his palms and finally face. It took them nearly an hour but it was well worth the time and while Joan didn’t feel as if Thomas deserved it, they thanked him. Thomas merely smiled softly at the action and stood, taking the tweezers and placing them by Joan on the platter of half eaten food.

“In case you need them again”, Thomas muttered casting a cursory glance in Roman’s direction before nodding his head once at Joan and leaving through the door. Joan sighed softly, sinking back as the tension they didn’t realize they had been housing finally escaped them. Relaxation and sleep slipped like snakes into their veins, slithering through their blood and into their mind. Sleep came just as a door slammed in the distance, Thomas’ swears polluting the air outside the bar.

 

Virgil growled lowly as he heard Thomas moving around downstairs. He had been pulling at his ropes for a good hour or so now and he wasn’t much closer to finding a way out of this situation. With some determination coming about after his crying and wallowing, Virgil was now standing, leaning against the wall somewhat as he feared moving away from it would cause him to fall and thus alert Thomas of his somewhat freedom. He was careful, taking small jumps with his hands holding the wall as he inched closer and closer to the desk. He had a plan. The ropes were just that ropes and he was already hurt as it was so a little burn here or there wouldn’t be too bad. Thomas had taken a match from his desk, it made sense that he kept a matchbook in his desk and if so Virgil could then strike one up and burn the ropes off. A little burn never hurt anyone, right?

Virgil inched closer and closer to the desk until he was a foot or so from the wooden behemoth. He narrowed his eyes at the desk and looked down at his feet, plotting his next course of action; jump, jump, turn, grab the desk and find the drawer. Simple enough, but the execution would be the difficult part. Virgil took his first jump away from the wall and felt pain blossom through his abdomen as his stomach made contact with the side of the desk. He almost bent double but realized he wouldn’t be able to get back up if he did and kept his ground. He breathed through the pain – in through the nose, out through the mouth – counting from ten to one before turning his body around and leaning against the desk. He shuffled around, gripping the edge for support as he tripped a few times, the pain grew with every jump-step he made. 

The drawers of the desk were lined out perfectly in a faded, dulled, iron-like metal. Inscriptions carved into tiny plaques at the front of each while thin strips of metal curved and turned, forming leaves and plant-like vines that twisted around the edges of each drawer front. The handles were not nearly as ornate; the same iron-like metal curved around in a near semi-circle, connected with two tiny screws at either end. Each drawer was roughly three inches deep, six inches wide and thirteen inches long. Such a desk seemed more fitted to a nobleman or a writer, not an outlaw or a criminal. It seemed too fine to be a part of the room no matter the intricate brassy-brown of the lamps or the large bookshelf the adorned one wall. 

He reached the first drawer and pulled, tugging it out and moving to the side to look inside, he almost screamed when he found nothing. There were two more drawers on the desk and he dearly hoped the third didn’t contain the matches. He shoved the first back in slowly, shimmying to bend a little and reach the second. He tugged, then tugged again, finding it stuck in place. He tugged more forcefully and felt it loosen. Not wanting to tug too hard and find himself sprawled on the floor on his face he took care to tug gently until the drawer slid out a little. Virgil could have cried tears of joy when a small book of matches could be seen at the bottom. It took a little to navigate, but he was able to retrieve the matches quite easily after the first several goes. He opened the small cardboard folder behind his back and fiddled around until he was certain he had a match. He dropped the rest onto the desk and struck the match against the desk, whimpering softly as the heat not only burned his skin, but also the ropes. 

They didn’t come off easily, stubborn and strong with thick, corded fibers that refused to catch alight let alone burn but he somehow made it work until he reached for another match to find the matchbook empty. He resigned himself to rubbing the ropes off on the desk’s corner; not his favorite or best plan, but one he was sure would indeed work. It was more than half an hour later – with multiple blisters forming on the skin of his wrists – that he was able to say he was half free. He felt through the rest of Thomas’ clumsy tying, ropes releasing his sore ankles in a matter of seconds. He stood, hand gripping the desk as he ground his teeth and bit his lip, blood welling with how hard he was biting.

He could hear the footsteps of his employer turned captor downstairs, moving quickly as the sound of cupboards opening and closing fell on his heartbeat filled ears. The drumming dimmed, slowed and finally ceased as his breathing stabilized. He heard a door open, then more rifling through cupboards. Virgil pulled a hand to his wound, gingerly rubbing the skin around the red soaked bandage as he thought up his next move. He determined Thomas was moving from the counter to the back room; for what reason, he hadn’t figured out yet, but he didn’t need to know. Thomas footsteps stopped in the back room, knowing his criminal past Virgil wouldn’t put it past him to be stealing Joan’s alcohol, drowning himself in the finest and strongest of liquors. He’d still have to move quickly and quietly if he wanted to get out.

Virgil shifted, testing the floorboards and wincing as they creaked under his weight. He trod as lightly as he could, making sure to step on the least likely to creak pieces of wood as he hobbled towards the door. The outlaw opened the door slowly, looking out and down the stairs to see if Thomas was outside. Virgil found no one stationed at the bar, the door also lying unguarded at the end of the room, could it really be this easy? Virgil took a seat at the top of the stairs, listening for anything; footsteps, voices, pained cries. Nothing presented itself so he waited for a while. His eyes wandered the bar, landing on the ajar door of the backroom where he heard a creak of floorboards, no doubt Thomas was in there. He waited a few more minutes before deciding it was all clear.

He had always been cautious and now hopefully it would pay off, as he descended the stairs, treading quietly and quickly. He swallowed, heart, pounding in his ears as he finally reached the bottom of the stairs and took to the bar, grabbing it and walking out the rest of the room with it. He heard shuffling from the back room, but his eyes were more drawn to his coat and hat, perched atop the bar in a neat pile with his firearms discarded next to them. He grabbed all of his belongings and sneered as his wound flared up again, making him growl under his breath. A creak from the back room made his head and eyes dart to the door before he realized that his time in here was up. He grabbed his hat and put it on, gripping the front and back and tugging it down a little before turning to the entrance of the bar. He hoped Thomas brought Di back here with him.

Virgil pushed the doors open and smiled warmly at the black mare, tied up to the railing and looking at him expectantly. The outlaw eyed the other horses; Thomas own along with a healthier looking Cameron and of course Joan’s horse. He tipped his hat to the others and walked towards Di, swinging himself up onto her saddle after untying her. He heard Thomas walking out of the back room, stop then run towards the front door as Di reared and turned towards Akers town.

“Virgil! Get back here”, Thomas yelled, but the darkly clothed outlaw merely smirked, narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on the horizon line. He had a job to do and he was going to do it.

 

Anthony looked up at the red-faced man in front of him, right arm resting on the door frame as he breathed heavily. The man’s brown eyes danced with both confusion and questioning before he walked past the boy and into the house, his coat trailing in dirt and dust after him. The man removed his hat, hair sticking to his face, slick and wet with sweat from the heat and exhaustion.

“Where’s Logan?”, the man asked, voice gruff and low as Anthony stared at him. The black-haired boy moved closer to the man, closing the door as he went.

“Who is it Ant?”, Logan called and the man’s eyes darted from Anthony to end of the hallway, nose sniffing the air a little. Anthony could see his Adam’s apple bob slightly in his throat, eyes narrowing at the parts of the kitchen that were visible from the door. The man dropped his hat onto the coat rack along with discarding his coat and hanging it over his arm. He straightened and Anthony could see him internally crumbling as Logan’s head rounded the kitchen doorway, concern and worry evident on his brother’s face. Logan stopped, looking the man up and down before kneeling down a little on the ground. “Anthony, come here. Now”, the elder commanded and Anthony raced to his brother’s side.

“What’s wrong?”, Anthony whispered softly as Logan stood and grabbed his hand.

“What do you want? Why are you here, outlaw?”, Logan asked slowly, obviously cautious of the man before them. Anthony looked from the outlaw to his brother and back, wondering what on earth could cause his brother to be so cold and unhostile to a supposed outlaw, had it been a normal encounter the man would have been dead by now. 

“Logan… I came here to warn you”, the outlaw said, tipping a little and grabbing the wall for support, breathing through his mouth and hissing a little as bloody, red patches began to flower under his shirt, blooming like roses from his torso. The outlaw opened his mouth again but hissed and fell into the wall sinking to the floor like a stone with one hand clasping his side.

“Oh, no. Anthony, I need you to get me some bandages, towels, water and the little sewing kit father kept in his room. I’ll take Virgil to the living room to patch him up”, Logan murmured and Anthony paused in the hallway, mid racing to the bathroom for towels and the bucket for water.

“We’re helping Virgil Hunterson?”, Anthony asked, eyes wide as he looked at his brother, who had bent to grab Virgil’s arm and sling it around his shoulders. Logan’s head swiveled to his younger brother, looking back at the boy with a firm stare.

“We’re helping Virgil Hunterson”, Logan confirmed and Anthony stared at his brother while the elder pulled Virgil up, moving him as quickly and carefully as he could to the couch. Anthony shook his head before scurrying off to fetch the required items.

“L… Logan”, Virgil breathed out, eyes squeezed shut in pain while Logan began to open up his shirt and survey the damage.

“Hush now. Let me see your wound”, Logan murmured as the shirt fell away and the reddened bandage was fully displayed. Logan sighed softly at the sight of the bandaged torso. “And a knife too! I need to get this bandage off”, Logan called out, hearing Anthony call back that he’d grab one as Logan began trying to pry the bandage away from the skin. “How’d you even get this? Why’d you come here?”, he murmured quietly, starting when a calloused hand fell atop his own. The hand was a little shaky, gently thumbing the top of Logan’s. The hunter looked up, eyes meeting Virgil’s as the man breathed quietly. 

Anthony entered the room and placed the bucket next to his brother, tapping his shoulder softly and handing him the towel and knife. Logan murmured a soft ‘thank you’, before setting about cutting the bandage, Virgil’s hand laying forgotten as the outlaw stilled under the care of the hunter. The elder Lilac pulled the bandage away to look at the wound; raw, red and caked with dried blood. New blood had begun to flow, streaming down the outlaw’s torso in thin rivulets, collecting on the messy cut bandages. It soaked through, staining the white couch below with the ugly red that would eventually turn an even uglier brown from the oxidization. 

Logan dipped the towel into the bucket, wiping it gently over the wound, scraping the blood away as much as he could. Virgil tensed every now and again as the towel tore off layer after layer of dried blood until the wound was clean and both the towel and water stained red.

“Anthony, could you get me some more water and another towel please?”, Logan asked as he took the sewing needle and began to pull through some of the cotton thread. Not the best thing for stitching up the wound, but it’d do until they could get the outlaw to a proper medical facility and have him sew up good and proper. Anthony moved off to get the towel while Logan grabbed a cushion, pushing it into the outlaw’s lips. “Bite down on this. It will most certainly hurt and I cannot have people hearing screams of pain coming from my home. They will investigate, knowing them, and you will be found. So, please, bite down on this and muffle your cries as much as possible.”

Virgil nodded softly, opening his mouth as the corner of the pillow was gently pushed into his mouth. The outlaw swallowed, tasting the fabric and frowning at the lavender-like taste. Anthony returned moments later, towel and bucket in hand which Logan thanked him for. The younger took a seat on the chair closest to the pair, eyes glued to the scene as his brother took the old towel and dipped it in the water, cleaning the wound some more before swallowing and touching the needle’s tip to the outlaw’s skin. The room was silent for a second before Logan pushed forward, the needle entering the skin and a muffled cry of pain coming from the outlaw. 

Anthony cringed back, hiding his head in his hands and closing his eyes as the sounds continued. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want to see this. He waited until the cries became whimpers, then looked up to see his brother tying off the end of the thread, cleaning the blood and cooing softly to the man in his care. Virgil was sweating, pain etched on his face and eyes squeezed closed. His body was tense, wound tight like a coil of wire waiting to be set free.

“Is he going to be okay?”, Anthony asked when Virgil finally slumped into the couch, devoid of the tension and wound up stress he had once carried. Logan looked back at his brother from his place on the floor, adjusting his glasses a little before giving Anthony a small smile.

“He’ll be fine. We need to get him to a doctor though. Definitely, as soon as he can ride. I can only do so much for him here and someone who actually practices medicine would be most beneficial in this situation”, Logan said setting the bloodied towel down and reaching for the clean, dry one. The elder dipped it into the bucket, wrung it out and folded it neatly before placing it on Virgil’s forehead. “I may require one more towel”, Logan said, standing and walking towards the door.

“Stay with him. I’ll get it”, Anthony said, watching as the outlaw’s eyes opened a little, sticking to his brother’s back with a sort of child-like want. Anthony could tell the man needed his brother, what for he didn’t know, but it was clear that he needed Logan.

“Okay, any size will do. I just need it to be able to go over this wound until I can get around to cleaning the other towel”, Logan murmured, walking back over to Virgil and taking a seat at his side, kneeling and placing a hand over the man’s chest.

“Okay. I’ll be right back”, Anthony said as he walked out of the living room and towards the bathroom. Logan traced a pattern on the heated skin, lazily following his hand’s movements with his eyes until Virgil’s hand took his and laid it flat against the outlaw’s chest. Neither spoke, both feeling Virgil’s chest rise and fall with his intake of breath, hearts pounding in sync with each other as the world silenced itself for them. 

“Logan… I need to tell you something”, Virgil wheezed out and Logan looked up, head rising from the palm he had supporting it, elbow resting on the couch. Virgil’s breathing grew unstable and Logan ran a hand soothingly over his brow, hair, and forehead. Removing and rewetting the cloth before replacing it. Logan took Virgil’s hand in his own wincing a little when Virgil hissed in pain. Logan looked down at Virgil’s wrist finding raw red marks on his skin along with blisters.

“What happened?”, Logan asked softly, picking up the discarded red towed and dipping it into the water before running the water over the burns gently. Virgil let out a small, muffled cry of pain and Logan pulled back a little, studying the outlaw’s face until Virgil’s expression smoothed into one of relaxation. “I’m sorry, but I have to take care of these”, Logan apologized as he began to clean the wounds, Virgil grabbing the pillow and stuffing it in his mouth once more to stop the cries. Anthony came back to see his brother carefully rubbing and cleaning the blisters and raw, red skin. The younger dropped the clean towel onto Virgil’s legs and took his seat in the chair once more.

“L… Logan, please… I need… I need”, Virgil stopped, taking a breath. Logan looked up, tapping his right index softly against Virgil’s lips.

“Stop talking. When you’re better you can tell me what you want to tell me. Until then I request you conserve your energy by remaining silent”, Logan said softly, smiling sadly at the outlaw before resuming his work on the outlaw’s body. Virgil groaned but otherwise didn’t say a word. 

The sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the room with the dying light of another day. The moon peaked out from behind the houses, drenching the town in white light as the stars twinkled. Logan listened to Virgil’s steady breathing, resting his head in his palm and letting his eyes drift closed. Sleep overtook him quite easily as it had done with his younger brother and the outlaw on his couch. His head slipped off his palm, body moving to make itself comfortable while his mind was full of thoughts of sleep, not realizing his head now lay pillowed on Virgil’s chest, hands gently clasped in the outlaw’s own under his head.


	15. Out of Joan's Bar and into the Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil wakes up only to fall again. Thomas has a minor breakdown in the rain on his way to Akers town. And our favorite tiny non-biny makes another appearance because who doesn't love them...also they help the imprisoned get ready for the upcoming battle with the evil Saderson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long... but still this is most likely the second last chapter :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been leaving me comments throughout this long period of time, again I'm really sorry it took what... 12 days to get this all done. I hope it doesn't take that long to finish the last chapter :P
> 
> So... commenters and kudos leavers, thank you to our commenters; XxTearfulChildxX, Toasty_Waffles, settingitoff, and our newest member of the commenter crew Crystal. And for kudos; we have DivineMammal and 2 guests. Thank you all so much for the positive feedback :)
> 
> Now: open your eyes, look up to the sky and...then look back down because my story isn't in the sky. Enjoy :)

Virgil woke up with a heavy, yet warm feeling on his stomach that made him smile lightly, the feeling causing him to drift in and out of consciousness. It was a welcome feeling, like a dim, comforting fire in the large expanse of black that surrounded him at nights, when he lay in the dark, cold abyss and contemplated how his life could have gone so wrong in such a short amount of time. It was like the hugs he used to receive from his parents; caring, soft, warm and full of so much love he could drown in it. It was like the sun setting on his back; not blindingly hot, but not just cold quite yet. It was an embrace, the sun’s radiance, the fire in the dark, the warm in the cold. Virgil opened his eyes and let his passive, nonchalant expression fall into a small, soft smile. He tried to capture the memory, this moment forever frozen in time with all the feelings he was experiencing right now. 

The outlaw looked down, eyelids parting ever so slightly to look at the sleeping figure, head nestled into his stomach and hands tucked under his head. Logan breathed softly, exhalations tickling the exposed skin with a gentle breeze. It was… calming, the quiet, the stillness, the beauty of the scene. Virgil smiled softly, running a hand gently through Logan’s hair.

“Why are you here?”, a voice asked and Virgil pulled back his hand as if he had been burned. His eyes flying to look at the boy, Anthony, seated in a chair a few feet away from him. Virgil’s heart thudded in his chest, shuddering with fear as he eyed the small boy, perched innocently in the large chair with not a single emotion visible on his face. The outlaw swallowed loudly, before closing his eyes and looking across at the young boy.

“I’m here to warn your brother…to protect him”, Virgil said, voice gravelly from disuse as a hand made its way to the hunter’s hair, subconsciously stroking through the soft strands.

“I can protect him myself. He can protect himself. We can protect each other. What did you come here to protect him from?”, Anthony asked, eyes narrowing slightly at the hand in his brother’s hair. Virgil drew in a breath, exhaling slowly as his lungs deflated and his eyes wandered to the sleeping hunter. 

“I came here to protect him from…from my boss”, Virgil said softly, running a thumb over Logan’s forehead and taking his hand away from him as the hunter’s brow creased in his sleep. Logan shifted a little before settling back down, sighing softly in his sleep before falling back into the dark abyss once more. Virgil looked down at the hunter, smiling gently before he heard a noise and tensed, looking back at Anthony to find the boy a mere foot from him. The outlaw let out a small cry, that cut off in his scratchy throat. Vigil coughed and closed his eyes, feeling the cold rim of a glass prod at his lips. 

“Drink. I got you some water and after you’ve drunk it I want to hear more about your boss”, Anthony said, handing Virgil the glass, turning and taking a seat in the large chair once more while the outlaw began to drink. It was refreshing to have the cool liquid course down the back of his throat, easing the scratch and loosening the tenseness he felt. He pulled the glass away, discovering it empty before he looked at Anthony, eyes searching the boy for anything, anything that could tell him of the boy’s true intentions. 

“What do you want to know?”, Virgil asked, sighing as he looked at the glass forlornly. Anthony chuckled, drawing Virgil to look at him curiously; the chuckle was the most emotion Virgil had been able to draw from the boy. 

“Everything…I guess we’ll start with a backstory or we can just skip straight to your boss’ name and then I’ll be on the lookout for them”, Anthony said, a hint of sarcasm layered in his words. Virgil looked into Anthony’s eyes and swallowed softly at what he saw; those eyes weren’t the eyes of an innocent child like they should be, rather they blazed with passion. It was a fire so great and powerful that Virgil had to look away. Still, the fire blazed in his own soul, renewing his spirit and igniting the anger, the building the bonfire in his bones so that its heat spread through his body. 

“His name is Thomas Saderson…and he’s my boss.”

 

Thomas growled, hand swiping bottles of alcohol off the counter of the bar as he sneered. His lips twisting into a gruesome, angry scowl as the glass crashed to the ground, splitting open and allowing the drinks to pour out like blood on the wooden floor. He slammed his palms into the bar and glanced from the open doors to the back room. They’d tricked him, they had to have done, there was no other explanation. No way Virgil in his current state would have been able to remove the bonds and get out of his office only to get on a horse and ride away… ride away. Thomas let out an agonized howl, vaulting over the bar with wild eyes. He stormed towards the bar’s entrance, face a picture of the rage in his soul. 

“I don’t know how you did it, but once I get my hands-on Virgil…I will find out”, Thomas yelled as he stopped a few feet from the door, listening to the whimper that came from the back room. They went against him…Joan went against him, a day or two without food would be a fitting punishment for the traitor.

He was out the door in seconds, grabbing and undoing his horse’s reins before pulling himself up and kicking the beast off into action. The sun was setting, blinding him a little as the warm light shone on the grains of sand, the tiny rocks glittering to life like thousands of jewels. The wind blew against his body harshly, whipping as his hair and rubbing the grains of sand into his face. It was hard to concentrate on everything going on around him, but he managed as his eyes narrowed against the light. 

The wind picked up in intensity, clouds beginning to form as the dry season ended. Grey clouds ominously rose from the horizon, spreading towards the outlaw as the world around him began to cool. Horse and rider stayed their course as the first of many droplets to come splattered onto the ground, the sand beneath it turning dark with the presence of water. Another and another came, hitting hard and fast. Cold splashes of water hitting his face as he pushed his horse onwards. The beast slowed as the sand dipped under its weight, rocks cascading down the hills as water slickened their journey. 

Lightning raced through the clouds above, lighting up the darkening landscape with flashes of white light. Thunder resounded through the valleys and hills of the desert, loud and imposing it rose and descended in waves of sound. Thomas swallowed, barely flinching at the noise that made birds scatter like sand in the wind. The cries of birds grew louder as a flock of crows dove over a hill, seeking shelter and passing Thomas as they fled the noise, wind, water, and light.

Thomas pushed on, eyes searching the desert for any landmarks to help guide him homeward. He pulled his horse to a stop as the rain pelted down on him, so heavy it blocked any mountains, hills, and rocks in a five-mile radius from his view. He shuddered as the cold liquid drenched his skin and clothes, coat sinking on his shoulders as the leather grew heavy with rain. Thomas slouched in his saddle, eyes wandering, searching for anything, anything he could use to guide him on his way as the anger dissipated into worry. His heart thudded louder in his chest, beating uncontrollably as his breathing grew erratic. He swallowed, breaths coming out in small puffs of air that mingled with the slowly cooling world to form tiny clouds that dissolved into the air in seconds. His horse shivered, head turning to and fro with its owners. 

Thomas bit his lip and sunk into the saddle, cursing the rain and weather for rousing the clouds from their slumber so he could no longer use the stars as his guide. With a heavy heart, he turned his horse, only to realize he couldn’t navigate back with the rain blocking his view. He was completely lost. Alone apart from his horse in the barren wasteland. Thomas let out a cry as tears sprung forth, biting his lip to muffle any other noise before he pulled out his canteen and opened the lid, holding it up to the sky and listening to the tinny clank of rain on metal. Tears were blurring his eyesight, making it all the harder to see his surroundings. He capped his canteen and slid off his horse, taking a seat beside the beast and drinking in the sounds around him with closed eyes. He hated being alone. It was a wonder no one had picked up on it before. He surrounded himself with people he usually controlled the fates of, people he liked, people who were usually loyal to him. These people he could hang on to, keep near him, have around him so he was never alone. But here he was; friendless, alone, and without a snowball's chance in hell of ever getting Logan to fall for him. 

It was like his world was crashing down around him leaving nothing but the vastness of the unknown, inky abyss of space. It made him pull his knees up to his chest and sink his face into the tops of them, hiding the sopping wet fabric and letting the tears run as lightning chased through the clouds above, thunder crackling around him as cold and electricity filled the air. The world darkened as the moon shone pitifully into the clouds above, light trapped behind bars of grey fog and rain. No stars lit up the sky, covered by the clouds and sealed off from the crying outlaw below them. 

Time drew on, the rain lessening its harsh fall to the earth below as if feeling the pain of the outlaw and taking away some of its sting. Thomas stayed still, hiccupping into his knees as the rain finally subsided into a gentle pitter-patter on his shoulders. The world was still cold, chilling him to the bone but it was less intrusive and unforgiving than it had been hours before. The outlaw boss pulled his knees in tighter, exhaling shakily into the wet fabric and shivering at the warmth of his breath hitting the icy cold tops of his knees. 

A sudden warmth blossomed on his back and the man turned to face the rising sun, sheets of light passing through the grey monstrosity above with a heavenly touch. The clouds passed over swiftly, moving away from the drenched outlaw and towards the opposite horizon to which they’d come. Thomas sniffled a little, rubbing his eyes and uncapping his canteen for a drink before standing and brushing the water from his horse’s saddle. He could see where he was now, he could navigate from here to Akers town. He could reach the town, see the Lilac boys and stop Virgil from foiling his plan. Thomas pulled himself onto the saddle, sat upright with a small smile and pushed the beast off. They had an outlaw to find. 

 

Roman groaned quietly and rolled over, adjusting himself as best he could so his hands weren’t pushing into his back and the circulation wasn’t cut off. He blinked and looked around in the dark, trying to figure out where he was and how he’d gotten to wherever here was. Slithering forward in the dark made him wince, splinters of wood sticking into his skin as he rolled over again and breathed heavily. He could hear the wind whipping sand outside wherever he was, but only faintly as if it were far away from him. There was a clatter, a clank, water dropping on metal. The rainy season had started, he assumed, as the smell of rain penetrated the stale air and the world around him cooled considerably. 

Roman shivered a little, turning his head to and fro, hoping that the rain and cold would stop soon as the room cooled, his skin prickling and raising as the hairs on his arms drew upwards searching for heat. He whimpered slightly, the cold sinking deep into his bones, tearing through his clothes as the heat would have. He never liked the cold, never liked it when it was so cold his fingers numbed or his body shivered, quaking like a piece of scared prey before its predator. It made him sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t do anything about it while he was tied up like this.

A new plan then, he thought to himself, craning his neck to the side to look at the smallest hint of light, get out of these ropes and figure out where I am. The plan was full proof, except for the fact he had no idea how to get out of the ropes. He waited for a second, breathing slowly and calming his heart before moving to sit up. It was a workout but he did it, sitting cross-legged on the ground and closing his eyes to listen for anything. There was the scrape of a tree against wood, the tell-tale scratch-scratch of a rat running across a floor, the smell of rain punctuated by the low notes of alcohol, and of course the tap-tap of the rain itself landing on thin metal. 

Roman opened his eyes, scanning the room once more and finding movement in the dark. The hunter swallowed and inched across slowly, knees wobbling as they hit the wood floor, again and again, carrying him to his target. The movement stopped as Roman neared, his eyesight growing clearer the more time he spent in the dark until the shape of two humans began to form. Roman almost bolted to the two as the tell-tale shine of Patton’s glasses made his heart thud wildly against his lungs. Was the bartender okay? Why was he here? Was he hurt? Roman growled softly at the thought. If their captor had hurt the man in any way they’d be sorry, Roman would see to that. 

The hunter pushed himself closer, eyeing the other figure with curiosity. The figure was slightly shorter than Patton, so it definitely wasn’t Virgil. Roman strained his eyes until the features began to appear, looming at him from the cloak of darkness that surrounded the three. Of course, Joan, how could Roman have been so stupid. And if Joan was here that must mean…had Thomas found them? Were they his hostages? Captives? Prisoners? And if Thomas had found them…did that mean he was here? And if Thomas wasn’t here did that mean…did that mean Logan…

Roman shook his head, trying to keep his thoughts clear and concise like Logan would have. He was a hunter, he had people to protect, people to keep safe. He needed to get out of here and help Logan, but…he was stuck. Stuck in cuffs of rope that burned his, turning the peach to red. Pristine smoothness to rough blisters. He twisted his hand again, biting his lip in pain. 

“Stop twisting and turning like that. You’ll only hurt yourself more”, a voice said, full of fatigue and lack of sleep. Joan blinked at the hunter in a tired manner, eyes drooping slightly as they let a yawn pass through their parted lips, wetting them and giving Roman a small frown. The awake bartender slid an arm out from under Patton, ruffling the man’s hair for a second before turning their eyes back to Roman with a more awake expression. 

“You’re awake?”, Roman asked, feeling a little guilty as Joan raised an eyebrow to give him a somewhat disbelieving look.

“Yes, I’m awake. You woke me up with all of your loud movements. Seriously, not everyone sleeps like the rest of the world is sixty miles away”, Joan mumbled, stretching a little and casting a glance at the door before returning his eyes to Roman. 

“Oh, sorry. I…I didn’t realize how loud I was being, mostly because I thought I was alone in here. But I would have been quieter had I known you and Patton were in here with me… why isn’t Patton awake?”

“He sleeps like you do; deeply and uninhibitedly.”

“Ah…yeah, well…sorry, I woke you up”, Roman murmured, shuffling closer to Joan and turning so his back hit the wall, hands slamming into the wood and making him suck in a breath through his teeth.

“It’s fine. I would’ve woken up later anyway. Did Thomas wake you?”, Joan asked, their head turning to look at the wall opposite them instead of Roman. 

Roman shook his head softly, “I haven’t seen or heard him since I woke up. I assume he’s either sleeping, drinking, away or ignoring us.”

“Well he barely drinks, it’s too early for him to be sleeping, he’d never ignore the fact you’re awake, and I haven’t heard him since he helped Patton with his wounds. So, I’d say he’s either upstairs in his office, with Virgil or on his way to Akers town for Logan.”

Roman groaned, pushing his back into the wall and wincing as his wrists throbbed in protest. He pulled forward and looked at Joan, eyes closed over with their chest pushing and pulling air in peacefully. They were carding their hands through Patton’s hair and… their hands weren’t bound behind their back. They could set Roman free. 

“Look, Joan, I know Thomas is your friend and all, but I need you to help me so I can go help Logan”, Roman urged, eyes looking into Joan’s in a pleading way. Joan looked at him, sighed and nodded. Roman smiled, turning around and offering his bound hands to Joan who began to pull at the rope. 

“Let’s get one thing straight though; Thomas is not my friend…not anymore at least”, the bartender murmured with a small frown as the ropes drooped, loosened and finally came off. Roman pulled his hands in front of him, rubbing his wrists with a smile before turning around and looking back at Joan with a large grin. 

“Good to know. Now give me your hands so I can set you free”, Roman said, taking Joan’s wrists gently and untying the ropes with ease. Joan moved onto Patton while Roman undid his tied ankles and Joan’s tied ankles. They stopped as something clattered in the distance, a horse neighing as lightning and thunder broke the silence. Someone yelped in the distance and Roman stood up, eyes on the door as footsteps neared it. Joan pulled Patton’s unconscious body close to theirs as both sets of eyes trained on the door. The footsteps neared, moving closer and closer until light burst into the room, the door swinging open to reveal a dark figure. Roman winced back, closing his eyes as he tried to adjust to the light, blinking rapidly as the figure moved forward and…smacked a hand into his shoulder. 

“You idiots. I leave you two alone for a day or two and you get captured, imprisoned and somehow drag another person into this. I swear if I weren’t so nice I’d hit the both of you upside your heads”, the figure said, whipping out a lantern to illuminate the room. Roman and Joan blinked, watching as Talyn frowned at them, lowering the lantern a little so they could see better. Water dripped off them onto the floor, small dark patches forming from the excess of water that seemed to follow the smaller bartender in from the outside. 

“Talyn…Talyn!”, Joan cried out, standing up and sweeping the smaller into a bear hug.

“Yeah, yeah. Let go of me, we have a hunter to save”, Talyn said, twisting in the taller’s embrace to make them let go. Joan retracted their arms with a sheepish grin, following the shorter out as Roman picked up Patton, opting for a piggyback ride as they ventured out of the small room and into Joan’s bar. 

The wind was whipping the doors open, rain pouring in through the open windows and creating puddles under the openings. The harsh wind pushed the water across the floor, spreading the dark to the bar, tables, and chairs. Joan raised an arm as the cold whipped at their party, rain flung into their faces and bodies as the wind howled loudly. Thunder crackled ominously outside as the wind howled loudly once more and the bar was plunged into darkness. Talyn scrambled to relight their lamp while Joan made a valiant effort to close the doors, Roman attempting to close some of the windows after depositing Patton to a chair close by. 

“This is bad”, Talyn murmured under their breath, while the other two walked around the bar closing windows and blinds to block out the storm. 

“Yeah, we can see that”, Joan muttered, growling a little at a particularly stubborn blind that was refusing to close against the newly found rage of the wind outside. Joan closed their eyes as sand was flung into their face; wet, cold and scratchy with no remorse to speak of. 

The howling ceased for a moment, long enough for the rain to fall downwards instead of on an angle, and long enough for Joan to finally get the window closed. The three looked around at each other; Joan pushed up against the window, Talyn seated and trying to start the lamp up again, and Roman with his hands firmly pressed against some blinds that had been flapping around wildly not seconds before. Joan breathed a sigh of relief while Talyn’s eyes returned to the lamp, light flickering to life once more. 

“There we go”, Talyn murmured, eyes watching as the small flame danced, heat pouring into the bartender’s bones from the small source. Joan swallowed and pushed off the window, Roman following their example and moving towards Talyn as well. 

“Tal…look I’m sorry I said that. I just…everything was out of control and I didn’t mean to snap at you like that”, Joan mumbled, taking a seat opposite Talyn while Roman walked to Patton to check the other was okay. 

“It’s fine. You were more focused on getting things done and lost yourself in the moment. I’d have done the same if I were you”, Talyn said with a small smile, taking their eyes off the lamp for a second to look at Joan before returning them to the lamp. 

“No, you wouldn’t have. I… I’m just a little bit out of it, have been since we found out Lo was part of Thomas plan”, Joan said, placing their head on the table with a sigh. Talyn looked up, sighing under their breath before taking one of Joan’s hands in their own and running the pad of their thumb over the back of Joan’s hand. Joan looked up with a ghost of a smile on their face. 

“Speaking of Thomas, where is he? I thought he’d have been here”, Talyn muttered and Joan let a little groan out, head falling back to the table, shame turning their cheeks pink with embarrassment. 

“Must be off trying to get to Akers town”, Roman murmured, the rain picking up again and slamming the doors open. The hunter raced over to lock them up, looking back at the duo once the task was completed. “I mean, he’s not here and unless he’s out with Virgil my guess is he went back to Akers town to court Logan…again.”

“Well that bites”, Talyn said, eyeing the flame as they let go of Joan’s hand and stood. The smaller bartender walked over to the bar and around it, bending down to gather items from below the bar. They appeared a couple of seconds later, dropping some jackets and hats onto the bar before disappearing once more. Joan and Roman walked over, leaning over the bar to look at the small bartender as they moved about underneath the bar, searching through crates and bottles until they found what they were looking for. 

“What…what are you doing?”, Joan asked, staring down at Talyn’s hunched back as they shuffled items about under the bar. Talyn looked up before looking back down again, grabbing something with a smile and hopping up to take a straightened stance behind the bar. 

“Getting supplies”, the shorter replied casually, unwrapping one of the coats to reveal a small stash of ammunition, daggers, and pistols. The two stared down with wide eyes with Talyn merely smirked at the small pile of weaponry. 

“Where did you…I never”, Joan looked at a loss for words, staring at the high piled weapons. 

“Correct, you never. I did, however. Every time I visited I left another item, now you have a chance to use them. I thought it’d be good to have a stockpile just in case you got yourself in trouble”, Talyn said with a wide smile. 

“You are amazing”, Roman muttered, grabbing a high-grade pistol and looking it over with a smile of his own. Joan blinked a couple of times before elbowing Roman as Talyn looked down under the bar again. “What?”

Joan glared at the man and Roman put his hands up with a shocked expression. The bartender nodded slightly before looking back at Talyn who now appeared with a small bag. 

“What’s in there, Tal?”, Joan asked as they reached for a dagger from the pile. 

“Canteens, dry food, rations and the like”, Talyn murmured, opening the bag with a small smile and taking out the canteens. They produced five canteens; large, cylindrical, silver things made with thin metal with black caps. “Help me fill these up and let’s go.”

Roman and Joan nodded, taking two canteens each and moving to the back of the bar. Rain was still pouring outside, the arid desert turning into a somewhat soggy sandbox. The small pump at the back of the bar glistened as the storm water wet the metal, cooling the blistering heat and turning the usually hot metal cold. Joan looked at Roman as the pair held the canteens close under the shelter of the extended roof. There was a huff of annoyance before both were shoved out of the way by the smaller barkeep, who walked out into the rain and set to work filling the canteen. The two watched from the safety of the shelter as Talyn pulled the collar of their coat up to shield them from the rain, shivering when drops of water cascaded down the leather and onto their back. Talyn capped the canteen and looked back at the two who merely looked at them with bewildered looks. The shorter sighed, grumbling under their breath before walking to the two and snatching the other four canteens from them, depositing them at the pump for filling. 

It took them a little while but soon the metal containers were full of water and the shorter was heading back in the rain towards the hunter and barkeep, who still stood motionless as the shorter came up to them. Talyn thrust the canteens into their chests and – with a growl – stomped back inside, their hair dripping wet. Their footsteps left dark patches of water on the wood and they pulled off their jacket, wringing it out as the two conscious water bearers came back inside, not nearly as wet or dripping. 

“Thanks for the help”, Talyn mumbled under their breath as they flung their coat back on and grabbed the supplies, “get up.”

The shorter bartender smack Patton’s shoulder, startling the man into consciousness as the shorter moved off towards the front doors. Patton blinked, looking around blearily and rubbing his eyes before his gaze settled on Talyn, standing in the doorway with the rations and weapons. Lightning flashed wickedly through the sky, illuminating their turned back and causing the rest to cast their eyes aside. Talyn stomped off into the rain and wind, grabbing their horse and attaching the bag to his back, the weapons tied up in their bundle and pushed into the bag with the food. 

“What’s going on?”, Patton asked, looking back at Joan and Roman who stood still and unmoving, watching the barkeep turn their horse in Akers direction. Patton glanced back at Talyn and stood, stretching before grabbing his coat and hat from the pile. He smirked a little before taking a few steps to Roman and Joan, grabbing two of the canteens before venturing outside with a shout to Talyn. Talyn nodded their happiness, smiling at Patton before Patton grabbed a more awake Cameron and hopped aboard the horse. Joan and Roman blinked before racing outside, canteens clasped to their chests.

“Wait”, the bartender called out and the two stopped their horses from traveling farther as Roman shoved the canteens to Joan who ran to their horse, while Roman retrieved their gear from inside the bar. Joan saddled up their horse with the canteens as Roman returned, hopping up behind the bartender as the two sped off atop Joan’s horse. Patton stifled a giggle while Talyn shook their head with an exasperated sigh. The group congregated atop the first hill and smiled at each other, before allowing their horses to bolt down the slope. Roman smirked as he tightened his grip around Joan; today, tonight, whatever the time was, they were out. They were out to help their friend.


	16. Finale - A Whole Lot of Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas returns to Akers town to get what he deserves, while the others are forced to put an end to all of his shenanigans. (Also, little warning because there is some crude, harsh language. Not heaps because you know me, but a little.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done... it's over and done and finished and oh my goodness. I mean if you ask I'll do an epilogue of them getting together or the returning people's perspective eg. travelling through the rain, watching the fight, stopping Thomas, etc. 
> 
> Okay, so this is probably the last Thank You I'll be doing for this story... that's kind of sad :/... anyway a huge thank you to every single one of you whether you kudos'd, commented or just read the story. You're all winners and beautiful people in my point of view. Onto commenters: Thanks a bunch to Toasty_Waffles, Crystal, XxTearfulChildxX, and settingitoff. And to the two guests who kudos'd my work.
> 
> You're all awesome and I hope this chapter treats you well. For a few of you, this chapter will be up on Christmas day, for others Christmas eve, and for even more of you it'll just be up when it's up. I hope each and every one of you has a fantastic holiday no matter what you celebrate or if you even celebrate anything at all. I just thought I'd let you all know that your support has really gone a long way and you've all encouraged me so much to finish this. You're all superstars and I hope you know that, my lovely readers. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the final chapter that didn't take me as long to do as I originally thought it would. So, I'll take a cheap shot, a clear miss and let you know that it's all over... (For Now).

Thomas smirked as the rain lightened up, water slipping off the leather of his coat as he rode through the rest of the storm. The wind whipped his drenched hair back, hat pushed down on his head with his other hand as one gripped the reins tightly. It was not an uncommon sight to see, a cloaked individual riding through the wastelands atop their noble steed, what made it unusual though was the fact that it was raining coupled with the fact that this particular individual happened to be one of the most influential, powerful, all-knowing people in the whole of the outlaw community – a strange sight indeed. 

The outlaw boss turned his smirk into a smile as he neared the edge of the storm, lightning flashing through the clouds in a display of nature’s power. A bolt struck not a mile away from him, making him look from the horizon to the not darkened spot. Thunder crackled overhead, dark and menacing with hidden evil intentions. Rain pounding down upon the man as he rode as if trying to push him down, pulling him back towards the storm with little success. Thomas was a man of determination and steadfast resolve, a little storm like the one surrounding him right this instant would not hold him down. And indeed, it did not seem to hold him back; even as the clouds parted for yet another bolt of lightning, electricity charging the air as it struck a tree. The tree burst into flame, only to be doused by the heavy sheets of rain that filled the air even more than the electricity did. The tree had been closer than the last bolt as if they were coming closer, striking closer to the man as if this was some sort of divine comeuppance that he had to atone for, his sins laid before the world as his true form was revealed for what it was. 

Thomas almost flinched – keyword almost – as another bolt struck down closer to him, his horse raising on its hind legs as the thunder crackled louder making his ears hurt with how loud it was. Like a thousand-people yelling in his ear at the same time until the voices became disjointed, distorted, and all around inhuman in nature. A clap of thunder sent his horse into a frenzied, panicked canter across the plains, hooves clipping the stones that rolled from hills to valleys. 

Though most of the area was a plateau, sand, and boulders stretching out as far as the eye could see, there were more than a few sections full of hills that dove down, down, down into dry river beds and dead tree-dotted landscapes. These valleys eventually led to hills once more and the plateau renewed itself in the traveler’s eyes. It was a beautiful landscape that, if given the chance, could be a lovely view. But as many were oh-so-fond of expressing, the heat of the desert was just too great and powerful for any mere mortal to brave alone. Sure, in numbers a home could be made, but without numbers on your side you might as well pack it in and call it a day. True the desert could be one of the most beautiful landscapes you could traverse, but it could also be the most treacherous, the most dangerous, the most torturous to maneuver without direction and an abundance of supplies. 

Thomas horse slid down a particularly rough patch of stones, loosened by the water and smaller stones. The rain began to mix with the dirt to form puddles of sludgy mud, that stuck to the horse’s legs and dragged it down with a heavy force. The sand then stuck to the mud, blending with it to form a painful, slimy fusion that stuck to the fur, mixed with the hairs of the horse’s tail and splattered up onto Thomas’ boots. Thomas took no notice of this, more intent on the final destination and the possibility of more rain. The end was in sight, a section of blue that stretched out from the clouds into the distance. He could almost feel the sweltering heat, the sand on his lips, the biting hot winds that blew at his hat back so he had to hold it in place. 

Another bolt of lightning escaped the cloud’s clutches, racing to the earth and striking a dead tree. The rain came down harder and then it stopped. Thomas looked behind him with a triumphant smirk. The clouds still loomed overhead, but the rain had departed leaving a few more kilometers of cloud covered sky before the blue came back. The sun was shining through the clouds, patches of pale yellow-orange drenching the world with light. Just another few miles and he’d be free, free of the dreadful dark clouds; with their lightning and their rain. He pushed his horse to go faster as the blue sky spilled into the clouds not far off. He only had a few more meters to go when a bolt of lightning crashed into the ground, startling his horse enough to make it run off course, trampling stones and slipping into water drenched sand off the track. Thomas groaned inwardly, hitting his horse’s flank with as much force as he could, hoping to get his message across in the harsh treatment. 

Moments later the pair were back on course, heading for the blue sky with nothing but pure determination fuelling their journey. The wind was bearable at this point, a soft breeze that was steadily becoming warmer as they neared the edge of the clouds. Then sunlight hit them; hot, blinding, pure sunlight that burned the ground and scorched Thomas’ soul. Thomas almost cried out in joy, lifting his hat off his head as the light hit the brown, tousled locks. The wind grew hot, blowing harshly and thrusting granules of sand into the outlaw boss’ face. Thomas looked back with a triumphant smirk, the clouds receding into the distance as if fleeing from his very presence. He felt whole, powerful, alive and above all; he felt free. Thomas looked back at the horizon, narrowed his eyes and pushed his body low against his horse, kicking the creature to go faster as a far-off group of tiny buildings grew ever nearer. 

 

Anthony stared across the strands of sun-kissed wheat, their silky golden complexion shining in the noon light. The storm had passed by them, stopping only a short while to drench the landscape with bittersweet rain. The world stunk with humid heat that was quickly becoming just heat; crushing, boiling, rage-filled heat. Virgil had long since gotten up and was now eating some bread and jam at the Lilac dinner table, watching the world outside as Anthony stood in the back doorway. Logan would not be pleased to note the items they had left out to dry were now just as wet as they had been a couple of hours previous. 

Virgil stood and walked over to the younger boy, bread dangling from his teeth as his hands gripped the walls for support. He could walk fine without the need for assistance, but he’d rather not risk opening the wound patched up so kindly for him by the hunter. The outlaw stepped up behind Anthony, choosing to look out with the Lilac as his free hand grabbed the slice of bread and chewed methodically on the bite he had taken. It truly was a sight; luscious, golden land stretching out as far as the eye could see while raindrops danced on the green leaves of the trees and flowers, slipping down them and dropping to the ground with a tiny splash. There were hills in the distance, sprawling orange and yellow mounds that dipped in and out of view. The corral seemed a mere splodge of woody brown on the picturesque golden and green landscape. By the time Virgil had noticed his legs were tired from standing his bread was gone and Anthony was looking up at him from his spot in the doorway. 

“Oh… uh, you have a beautiful piece of land”, Virgil muttered as he quickly looked back out, keen to see more of the beautiful landscape. He noticed the tiny creek that twisted its way through the valley at the bottom of the hill, the little bridge that had precisely carved balusters that curved around and around, up to the handrail that curved as well like the entire bridge – minus the planks that formed the bottom – were made of two giant vines with tiny wooden flowers decorating it. The creek itself was also a sight to behold; clear as crystal and glinting just right in the sun that it seemed to be made of pure glass. Virgil supposed that at just the right time of day the creek would gleam like gold or sparkle like silver, but that time was not now. Now it glittered like a diamond, clear and pure.

“You. I like you. Will you marry my brother?”, Anthony asked out of the blue and Virgil felt his throat and mouth grow so dry he coughed and his eyes bulged a little under the question. He looked down at the young Lilac as if it were a joke, but Anthony didn’t appear to be joking, rather he remained stoic and sure of his declaration. Virgil didn’t know how to respond at first, he’d really only met the boy on one other occasion, that being when he found the boy taking care of Di for him. How could this boy be so sure he was the right match for Logan when he’d only met him once?

“Look, kid”, Virgil began, dropping to one knee and looking up at Anthony who turned his stare into a glare. Virgil swallowed the accumulating saliva as the Lilac crossed his arms and continued to glare down at him. “The thing is while I’d love to marry your big brother, and trust me he seems like a good guy, we’ve barely started getting to know each other and well… you don’t really know me that well. You’ve pretty much only just met me and you seem to think that out of everyone I’d be a suitable candidate for marrying Logan. I just… I mean I’m flattered but we need to get to know each other first before anything else happens.”

“That’s what I thought”, Anthony said with a sigh, glare receding into a look of disappointment, “you’re perfect for him. You know that, right? You two are perfect for each other, but you’re not even friends, far from it actually. But trust me when I say, you are by far the best person to marry Lo. No one I have ever seen has even come close to being a suitable candidate, but you… you just turn up with a wound in your side and a vendetta against your boss and suddenly I have the best candidate for marrying my brother within arm’s reach.”

“That’s… that’s very kind of you to say, but that still doesn’t equate for Logan and I not being that close. People need time to adjust and see if they’re compatible, you can’t just throw your bother into a relationship with me based off one previous meeting and the idea that I’d be a good match for him”, Virgil said with a soft smile. It tore him p to say they weren’t friends, but it was true. Logan and he could and most likely would never be friends. Their jobs forbid it. A hunter and an outlaw being friends, unthinkable. A hunter and an outlaw being more than friends, being in a relationship, being romantically and physically intertwined; inexcusable. Even if they were together they’d both be hunted down like dogs for being romantically involved. It just wasn’t supposed to happen and it would never happen. Virgil wouldn’t put the Lilac’s in that situation even if he wanted to be friends with Logan or, heaven forbid, wanted to date the man. Anthony was innocent and so was Logan, and Virgil wasn’t about to put them in harm’s way for his own selfish needs and wants. 

“You’re still a better match than any one of his other suitors”, Anthony grumbled as Virgil stood. For some reason, the idea of Logan having suitors made Virgil’s heart twinge and his eye twitch involuntarily. Anthony wasn’t looking but the way Virgil had stopped moving made him look up to see the slightly angry expression on his face, his eyes trained on the horizon. Anthony thought this over for a second before thinking up a theory and deciding to test it out. “I mean, you’re obviously the best choice, but there was this one guy. I can’t really remember his name, but he had charm, plenty of it and he was so nice. Swept Lo off his feet, literally. And he’d hand kiss my brother at least four times a day”, Anthony said with an air of nonchalance, taking note of the way Virgil’s eye twitched, his hands tightening into a fist, knuckles turning white from the exertion. Anthony smiled a little before turning and walking a little way away from the outlaw in case Virgil snapped at what he was about to lie about, “and come to think of it. Logan’s hands weren’t the only thing he’d kiss. I believe it was with him that Logan gave up his first kiss.”

Virgil snapped, whirling around to face the boy who had long since vanished from sight. Blood was pumping around his body, cheeks hot with anger while his heart was swamped with mixed emotions; anger, sadness, jealousy, and fear washed around inside the cardiovascular muscle with the rage of a typhoon. After a few minutes of calm breathing Virgil limped over to the chair he had been in before and sat down heavily. He exhaled through clenched teeth and closed his eyes as he tried to stop the vicious cycle of jealousy from taking over. With a rough, calloused hand Virgil scrubbed over his face, leaning back in the chair as he tried to calm his body and emotions. It wasn’t hard, but it took some time before he was fully in charge of himself again. He kept his hand in place over his eyes until he felt someone tap his shoulder gently. The touch was light as if the person was worried about incurring his wrath or upsetting him if they tapped too harshly. 

The outlaw craned his head back and let his hand drop to his chest before he opened his eyes and looked up into Logan’s worried face. Virgil’s eyes snapped wide open and he sprung forward in the chair with so much force he almost fell out of it. He whipped his gaze to Logan who merely looked at him inquisitively. 

“Are you alright, Virgil?”, Logan asked and Virgil’s mouth went dry with nerves. He blinked a couple of times before nodded shakily and went to stand. The outlaw kept his eyes firmly planted on the ground out of embarrassment while Logan looked him over with a hint of concern. “Are you sure? You had quite the wound and I fear it will not completely heal for some time.”

“I… I… I-I”, Virgil stuttered, searching for words until Logan took his right wrist in his delicate fingers and smoothed them over the bandaged skin. 

“What happened to your wrists?”, Logan asked in a soft, almost sad, tone. Virgil shook his head gently, reminding himself that the hunter would and could not feel sadness for him. They’d barely met or talked for crying out loud. After the stiff reminder, Virgil took a breath and proceeded to move away, not wanting to get any closer to the hunter then he had to.

“Ropes… and fire”, Virgil said softly, not looking up as he took his wrist and pulled it close to his chest, swallowing softly and listening to the gentle footfalls of Logan moving to the other side of the table. There was a scratchy sound, the kind that a chair would make when being taken out and dragged softly on the floor beneath it. Virgil turned to look at Logan, who now sat at the other end of the table, looking solemnly down at his hands. His eyes were full of a concern he should not have, such a thing was dangerous for both of them, but the sight made Virgil’s heart melt a little.

“Who?”, Logan asked, looking up through his glasses and as the light of the sun caught them Virgil swore he saw fire in the soft brown eyes. He almost reached out to bring Logan closer, if just to look into those eyes again to check for the fire he had seen. It took the outlaw a second to realize he had been holding his breath and he released it with a shudder, looking away from the hunter and to his leg, hands dropping to scratch an itch on his right thigh. 

“My boss”, Virgil replied finally and Logan seemed to sink a little in his seat as if it were his fault the outlaw had these wounds. The idea brought a modicum of defensiveness out in Virgil for both himself and Logan, because yes it had been in a way Logan’s fault he had accumulated these soon to be scarred wrists, but it was also his own fault and no one, not even Virgil, should make the hunter feel like anything up to this point had been Logan’s fault. 

“I apologize”, Logan said softly and Virgil swallowed, no used to hearing those words from anyone. The words made his gut tighten painfully and he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. 

“Not your fault he’s a dick”, Virgil said, voice rough and low even though it sounded high and squeaky in his head. He hoped the hunter would realize that his sadness was effecting Virgil more than the outlaw would have ever thought possible. 

“True, but I apologize that you had to go through such an ordeal. Pray tell, what forced your boss into doing this?”, Logan asked and for a second Virgil was confused, before he realized that up to this point Logan had no idea who his boss was and what his boss wanted. 

“I… he’s trying to keep me away from something that means a lot to him”, Virgil said, standing automatically, even though he had no idea why. Then he heard a sound so painful it made him see double for a second. A dreaded clatter of stones falling under hooves. A horse was approaching the Lilac house. Virgil pushed a hand to his side, fingers gripping the hilt so hard it hurt. He took three giant steps into the hallway and died a little inside as he saw Anthony poking his head out the door to see who was coming up to the house. 

“What is he trying to keep you away from?”, Logan asked, following Virgil with furrowed brows and a concerned expression. 

“You”, Virgil said before pulling out his pistol and pointing it at the door as a dark figure appeared behind it, “Anthony, behind me now.” Anthony obeyed the order, not knowing why, but trembled a little upon seeing the outlaw look so furious. 

“Knock, knock”, a voice said from behind the door and Virgil whipped out his arm to shield the two Lilac’s, now clutching each other. Anthony trembled violently in his older brother’s arms while Logan tried to soothe him, running a hand through his hair as a wicked laugh echoed from behind the door and three hard knocks resonated from the wood. “Come on out, little outlaw. I’m here for my husband and his brother, and I plan on collecting.”

Virgil stood his ground even as there was a tell-tale click of a pistol being loaded. The figure faded from the door before a loud gunshot resonated through the house. Vigil turned quickly, shielding the two boys with his body as the door swung wide open, handle shot to pieces form the bullet it had recently taken. Thomas stood, cloaked in black, pistol raised and a malevolent smile on his face. His smile split into a wide grin as he dropped his pistol to his side and walked towards the three, eyes wild with a dangerous happiness that only a cold-blooded killer could possess. Virgil turned to look at him, rage filling his eyes as he readied his own pistol only to buckle as another shot pierced his stomach. 

“Such a shame. You were a very valuable asset, my dear Virgil. But you stand between me and what is rightfully mine, so… I guess I was wrong. I overestimated you and underestimated you, Virgil. First, I thought you would die, then I thought you’d put up more of a fight, but no. I found myself wrong in both instances”, Thomas said, voice smooth as melted butter, rich as gold, and deadly as poison. He spoke in a low, calm tone as he walked to the three, steps slow but deliberate as he was clouded in dust for a second only to materialize from it seconds later with an evil glint in his eyes. “You disappoint me. For an outlaw, you’re not putting up much of a fight. And for a hunter, Logan, you’re not doing much to stop me from killing him”, Thomas said, tutting lightly as he loaded his pistol, stepped over to where Virgil was groaning in a small puddle of his own blood and gently bent down, pushing the tip of his pistol into Virgil’s scalp with a slightly less malicious smile. “I guess I thought much more highly of you than I thought. Now, Virgil, say hello to your family for me”, Thomas said as he rested his finger on the trigger and began to squeeze only to be knocked out of the way with a strong hit to his head. 

“Stay away from him, you monster”, Logan spat out, wooden chair raised to hit Thomas again, eyes flashing with fury behind his glasses. Thomas growled and looked up, his own eyes flashing with a renewed vigor.

“You bitch”, he growled out as blood dripped down from his mouth, lips split from the impact. He raised his pistol and shot at the hunter, who pulled the chair up just in time for the bullet to be lodged in the wood. Thomas stood and jumped at the man, narrowly missing as Logan jumped away and raced out the door, the outlaw boss hot on his tail.

Virgil looked up as boots came into view and two tiny hands began to pull him across the floor to the couch. Anthony pulled him up and ran a hand over the wound gently, before grabbing a pair of tweezers laying in the upturned coffee table and setting to work on removing the bullet from the outlaw. Virgil screamed so loud his throat hurt until he could no longer hear his own voice and he realized he’d screamed enough to lose his voice. Anthony bandaged the wound carefully before running up the stairs to grab his own pistol.

“I’ll be back”, the young Lilac said before racing off to Virgil’s coarse yelling. Virgil watched him go, gritting his teeth before sitting up. The wound was bleeding through the bandage, but a little blood never stopped him. The outlaw stood through the pain and limped out of the house, turning to his horse and climbing atop her. He pushed her on towards the township and prayed he’d get there in time. 

 

In town, the fight continued as Logan narrowly avoided a shot that pierced the glass window above him, tiny pieces cascading down upon him as he fled the scene. He was weaponless, tired, and without Roman by his side. He’d been shot at multiple times and he wondered where Thomas was getting all this ammunition from. He had a wound on his upper left arm from a narrowly dodged bullet and another wound on his right calf from a shard of glass that was now impaled in there.

“Run. Run all you want Logan. I’ll find you, catch you and kill you. I’ll hunt you down and make you bleed. Come on out, little Lilac so I can kill you like the hunter you are”, Thomas taunted as he watched for movement. Logan stifled a small cry from behind a barrel as he pulled the glass shard from his calf and dropped the red covered shard to the ground. He breathed as softly as he could but he knew he was running low on time. “Found you, little Lilac”, Thomas said and Logan ducked as a bullet passed over the barrels and into the wood wall above him. He ran out from the cover and ducked into the bar, sliding across the floor and behind the bar with relative ease. He bit his lip and turned his head to the side, listening for footfalls. He turned to where he’d come from and paled. A thin red line trailed from his leg to the end of the bar. Parts of it were dotty from the running, but if Thomas was as observant as he’d come to learn he could be, he was doomed. 

Logan stayed silent, terror coursing through his veins as he tried to imagine a way to get out of this situation. He was thinking on his feet, without a proper plan, and in pain. His mind was clouding over and he shook it to try and clear the fog. His blood stopped cold in his veins, icing over in fear as the doors to the bar creaked open and heavy boots slowly made their way to the counter. 

“If I didn’t know you were a hunter, I never would have believed it, little Lilac. You certainly don’t act like one”, Thomas said, eyes trailing across the line of blood on the floor, following it to the end of the bar as he walked along it. “I suppose I should have never worried about you or the other one. If it’s this easy to take you out, well… I guess I should have done this years ago.”

The footfalls stopped behind Logan and he pushed himself closer to the wall of the bar, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t be found and shot. Thomas chuckled lowly, pushing his pistol over the counter and around under it until he felt it land against something soft and squishy.

“I will miss our dates”, Thomas cackled, as Logan’s eyes widened and tears began to leak from his eyes. The outlaw boss began to pull the trigger right as something impaled itself in his shoulder, causing him to lose his stance and the pistol to go off a few centimeters from Logan’s body. Thomas whirled around and Logan scrambled to the end of the bar, peeking around as he pulled in breath after breath. 

Anthony stood in the doorway, pistol raised and expression stoic. His lithe fingers grazed the trigger again, pulling it back and letting another shot fly as Thomas fell to the ground in both pain and fright. The younger Lilac stepped forward, raising the pistol to Thomas once again and looking him right in the brown eyes. 

“I told you. We talked about this Thomas. I warned you and you didn’t listen to me”, Anthony said softly, voice as calm as the babbling of the creek outside. Thomas stared up at the boy as Anthony tutted lightly. “I told you to let him live his life and now look what’s happened. You really thought I wasn’t serious. I remember when I warned you I told you to give him time or you wouldn’t have any left. Now… let’s make good on my words, shall we?”

Thomas felt fear paralyze him for a split second before he got his wits about him and raised his gun to the boy, firing as Anthony dodged with the speed one would require after years of training. Thomas fired again and again, but each time Anthony dodged the bullet, raising his own weapon as Thomas stopped to reload his pistol making quick glances up at the boy who drew near to him. 

“I wouldn’t be so overconfident in your abilities, boy”, Thomas snarled, as he fired again. Anthony dodged and looked over at Logan who was now leaning against the bar and watching the spectacle, but Anthony’s eyes saw what his brother could not. There was a wound on Logan’s left thigh that was leaking an unseemly amount of blood, the trail moving down his leg and soaking his pants through. Anthony pulled his dodging to a halt and fired once at Thomas before grabbing his brother by the wrist and sprinting out of the bar, his elder brother stumbling behind him. 

“Anthony”, Logan murmured, looking up as he fell to the ground. The blood was leaking out too much, the blood loss finally beginning to affect the elder as Logan breathed heavily and tried to stand. Thomas appeared from the bar, wild-eyed and furious. He raised his pistol and Anthony watched in horror as the bullet was let fly, straight from his elder brother. It was meant to be a last resort, what Anthony did next, a final solution should his brother require it, but oh did Logan need it right now. Anthony pulled the trigger of his pistol at the same time he jumped in front of Logan. 

Blood splattered the ground. Logan looked behind him with wide eyes, blood spots decorating is glasses like stars in the sky. Anthony swayed on his feet for a second before plummeting to the ground, bullet impaled in his chest and blood gushing from the hole it left. There was no way to save him, Logan knew this deep in his mind, but right now his heart spoke volumes and all it was saying was ‘save him’. So, Logan tried his best. He took off his sleeves, opening Anthony’s shirt to survey the damage as red leaked down the tan chest with an unsettling ease. Logan pressed the torn fabric to his brother’s chest, willing, hoping, praying that it would be enough to save the younger Lilac. But as horses pulled into town and an outlaw put a hand on his shoulder Logan knew it was too late. 

It was a pity, really. At the age of twelve, barely having lived his life and so full of promise, Anthony’s tale had come to an end. He died in his brother’s arms after a few shaky breaths. He never told his brother he loved him, never got to see the elder grow old, never got to experience the joys of life, the trials, the pain. He never even left the little town of Akers. He was born, raised and died in the town that barely recognized his existence. 

Logan screamed. A loud, blood curdling, heart-wrenching scream that pierced the air and told of so many things; pain, hurt, the everlasting love for family, and the aching of losing a loved one. Logan rested his head on Anthony’s lifeless body and cried into it, not noticing the arms that were around his waist, the body behind his that rocked back and forth and cradled him as if he were a newborn. In just three days Logan had lost two family members to this world. To the cruel harsh reality that was his life. He wanted to curl up, live in a shell and die from loneliness at the age of twenty-eight. It was all too much. It was all too much to process; all the pain and misery and heartache. His mother was gone, his father was gone, and now his brother was gone. And it was all Saderson’s fault.

Logan’s eyes snapped open and he looked towards the outlaw boss, restrained by his partner and the barkeep. His breath came out sharply, eyes zeroed in on the man that took away his last family member. Oh, he’d pay for that. He’d pay dearly for that. In one movement Logan had sized Antony’s pistol and stood, face blank as he walked over to the outlaw boss. The world’s noises were gone, everything was black apart from the one person who took it all from him. Logan’s couldn’t feel anything, he couldn’t feel the way Joan was grabbing his arm, the way Virgil was trying to pull him back. He couldn’t hear Roman’s yells or Patton’s cries. All he knew was the man he saw was the man he had to kill. Logan raised the firearm and stood over Thomas, ready to kill the man execution style. Thomas didn’t look up at him, but Logan could see the manic grin on his face, feel the smug pride that radiated off him. It made him sick. He was about to pull the trigger when a hand reached into his view and grabbed it from him. Logan whipped around to stared down the person that had taken his revenge from him. He stared into Virgil’s eyes, both stoic as they stared each other down. And then Logan crumpled. He shook and tears began to bead at the edges of his eyes. Virgil wrapped him in a tight hug, breathing heavily as they sunk to the ground. Logan gripped at his shirt and cried his heart out for the town to see. 

Roman sighed softly, looking down at the man that had murdered his best friend’s brother and father. If he was in charge Thomas would get a life sentence, never to be heard from again. Thomas didn’t seem to acknowledge the world at all, whether it was because of the bullet in his arm or because he’d just killed a child in cold blood, no one knew. Roman and Joan took him away, saddled up and tied up tightly behind them. He didn’t get a fair trial, Roman never broke the news of that to Logan, preferring that his best friend never know that for all his crimes Thomas would only serve two years. It cut them up, outraged every single one of them that Thomas would be free in no time. So, they spent what little time they had free of the monster. 

Virgil was the only one Logan seemed to really trust, perhaps because he’d stopped the hunter from committing murder based on the twisted idea of revenge. Roman allowed the outlaw to stay with Logan alone, under the condition that he never abandon the scholarly hunter. Virgil didn’t decline and very soon after he gave up being an outlaw in favor of helping Logan return to his full luster instead of the dulled shell that had become. They held Anthony’s funeral a few weeks after Thomas’ incarceration, burying him next to David and Crystal in the cemetery. Not a soul from the town turned up, aside from Roman and Patton. Roman continued to be a hunter while Joan and Talyn moved into Akers to help Patton. 

After a couple of months, Roman returned from a hunting trip gone awry. He was gravely injured and had to stay away from the job for a few more months. Before he could return to the lifestyle Logan offered him a job caring from the horses on the Lilac property. Roman agreed quickly, but the two were quick to go back to hunting. Virgil, realizing that he could never be an outlaw again, turned to help with the hunting. He picked it up quickly, but Logan could never hold his pistol right anymore, claiming to see Thomas at the end of the barrel every time he tried to shoot someone. He eventually left the hunting to Roman and Virgil, turning to farming as his father would have wanted. 

In the end, Logan did settle down, Virgil did find his way out of being an outlaw and the group did find happiness. Thomas did get sent to gaol and did get his comeuppance. The story would forever be one that the group would pass on to their children and grandchildren. A story of love, family, gun fights and a whole lot of sand.


	17. Epilogue - Into the Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil goes off to capture an outlaw called The Snake and finds more than he asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next tier here we come... Look I'm going to properly dedicate this: For those of you who needed a proper ending... 
> 
> I'm kidding, this is dedicated to all of you who stayed with me through the writing process and kept me going, for those of you who gave me kudos, read my story, commented and made my day in general just by being who you are. This epilogue is dedicated to my friends, my Sanders family, my loved ones. This is dedicated to everyone in the Sanders Sides fandom and beyond because this wouldn't have been possible without every single one of you. You've all been so supportive and sweet, so kind and selfless, so patient and loving when it came to my stories. You've taken time out of your lives to read, comment, kudos and contact me and through this story, I've gotten in touch with so many of you. I just want you all to know that every little thing you all do is very much appreciated by me. 
> 
> I wish I could let you all know how much you mean to me and how much all of your support has given to me. Sure sometimes it made me feel a little bad because my works really aren't that good and you all can find way better things to read than my little dumpster fire, but here we are; 90,000+ words later and about three months of on and off work over with and you're all still here for some reason. 
> 
> I guess this'll be my last comment and kudos thanks... so here we go; thank you for giving me kudos: seven guests, IsItClarity and digitally_analog. And for commenting: MilkyRuu, settingitoff, XxTearfulChildxX, Crystal, Toasty_Waffles, higuyshey, and Wow. And also I'd love to send some love to those of you who have this bookmarked and have subscribed (I think that's what AO3 has). All the love you have sent my way has been very much appreciated and I always enjoyed writing the notes section, knowing and seeing who sent me what and knowing that they'll read this and hopefully feel as validated as I did when someone wrote to me or gave me kudos. 
> 
> Anyway, away from all of that this may be the last chapter but I may be doing a sort of sequel/prequel/spin-off so we'll see how that turns out. Apart from that I want to see your suggestions so for this final chapter I'm holding a sort of competition that'll run from the minute I post this chapter to two days after. You may be wondering what this competition will be and I'll get to that now: basically I'm in need of a title for this chapter... you thought I'd just call it the epilogue, boring. So whoever has the best title will have the "honour" of having their title be the final chapter title for this story. This will also be running over on my tumblr... not so shameless self plug there sorry, but it'll be AO3 users vs tumblr unless you have both in which case you won't have double the chance but I mean... I won't know it's you so I guess go hog wild. Rules are pretty straight forward and standard: no swearing, no foul language, no innuendos, and nothing that would be classed as anything other than a healthy title for the story. 
> 
> I will take multiple suggestions, you have no limit and I'll just pick the one I think suits the story best. If you're close to me you'll have the same chance of winning as anyone else, I'm not going to act all biased and rig this. Everyone has a fair shot, no one can comment on other people's titles and no stealing titles either.

Virgil let out a low whistle, stilling Di atop the hill to look out at the cold, black town before him. Roman nodded a little before kicking Cameron off down the hill, racing as fast as he could. He let out a chuckle as Virgil - noticing his absence - attempted to keep up, racing Di down after him. 

Hooves clashed against stone and blackened sand, ashes rising under the steel of their shoes while burnt wood fell apart, trampled under the weight of two fully grown horses. They were neck and neck, passing the shells of shops and homes, the twisted black trees and piles of soot covered wood. Sand beat up behind them, fanning out and dropping as the wind pushed the small stones to and fro in a heavy breeze that lifted some of the ash from the surrounding landscape, tossing the white through the air with ease as if circled around like miniature tornados. Roman laughed loudly, letting out a hoot of happiness as their horses leapt from the entrance of Crow Ridge, galloping out of the cinder-filled town. Virgil smirked, turning in the saddle slightly and looking back at the shell of a town, black wood erupting like a gigantic skeleton from the sand as if some larger beast had eaten and left the carcass behind for vultures to peck at. 

"Come on, old man", Roman called as Cameron edged out ahead of Di. The hunter let out a loud laugh as the former outlaw pulled Di back a little in shock, before Virgil grit his teeth and growled lowly forcing Di to move faster towards the hunter. 

"Old man? I'm only a few months older than you", Virgil yelled as he sped past the hunter with relative ease, pushing ahead of him and racing off towards Akers town. Roman grunted softly and tried to boot Cameron into moving faster as sand clouded up behind the two, their trails leaving small orange dust clouds in their wake. 

The sun peered down upon them, moving quickly across the sky to the edges of the horizon while birds flew towards shelter for the night in the carcass of the burnt-out town behind them. The two hunters shouted playful insults at one another, their gear glinting in the sun with a ferocious white light. 

Akers town watched them as they neared, horses and hunters closing in on its position. The wooden sign hung a little lopsided, an accident - Roman would assure you - found after a pistol had been shot underneath it. The town was similar to how it had been a few years previous, the only real work being in the graveyard and around the town as a whole. A fence now surrounded the town, large wood cylinders with heavy planks connecting them. In the graveyard there was but one new grave, mounted atop was a tiny - yet elaborate - gravestone with the youngest of the Lilac brother's names carved into it. 

Virgil and Roman slowed to a halt outside the bar, each nodded in sync before Virgil bolted up the hill atop Di while Roman slid off Cameron and entered the bar. Patton let out a squeal as Roman pulled off his gloves, a thin golden band decorating his ring finger. The bartender raced around the other side of his bar and leapt at Roman, gripping him tightly while the other chuckled and pressed a small kiss to his temple. 

"How was it?", Patton asked as he walked back behind the bar. Roman took a seat and put his head in his hands watching the light of the sun dance off Patton's spectacles. 

"Not bad. We caught the guy and handed him over. Not a single injury to either of us", Roman said with a smile as Patton handed him a small glass full of a dark orange liquor. 

"Well, I guess that's cause for celebration", Patton said with a smile of his own, pulling out a glass and filling it with a small amount of the same liquor. Their glasses tapped together lightly before they downed the drink, twin grins adorning their faces while the sun began to set outside. The sun glinted off their matching rings, gold shining in the orange light. 

 

Virgil dismounted Di slowly, pulling her gently by her black reins to the stable on the side of the Lilac house. A few other horses stamped on the hay and dirt floors softly at Di's return, welcoming her back with soft whinnies and the occasional nuzzle. Virgil chuckled at the friendly nature of the other horses as he pulled Di to her stall and proceeded to fill her feeding trough with food. The hunter smiled at the sight of his horse eating, dropping the food bucket and exiting the stable with light footsteps. Virge glanced up at the large house before him, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun while the other fished around in his coat pocket, gloved fingers gliding over a small trophy from his most recent adventure. Something the owner of the Lilac property had asked him to procure whilst out on his rounds. 

The hunter breathed in, the scent of hot sand and horse feed filling his nostrils before he exhaled, nodded once and walked around the house to the entrance. He knocked twice on the door, sharp knocks that made himself known whilst not being heavy enough to leave any sort of authoritative impression. Virgil could hear the sound of footsteps, light against the wood floors with the grace of a practiced hunter, moving steadily closer to the door. The white wood creaked as the door handle was turned gently, the door pulled inwards while Virgil dropped into a bow, hand sweeping his hat off his head and holding it out to the side while his other gently rested against his torso.

"My lady", Virgil said with a small smile, eyes glinting with humour as he chanced a glance upwards. The door opened a little further and Logan let out a long sigh of exasperation. 

"How many times have I asked you not to refer to me as such?", the Lilac man asked, frowning gently at Virgil who stood up straight and looked Logan dead in the eyes with a hint of mischievousness swirling in his brown eyes. 

"A great number, I assure you", Virgil chuckled, his grin teetering on Cheshire like in its laughing, quick nature. Logan simply rolled his eyes at the sight, turning and walking towards the living room with heavier footsteps than he had previously used. The ex-hunter turned and raised an eyebrow at Virgil who seemed to shift from one foot to the other while holding his hat in both hand, clasping the leather rim tightly as his eyes darted to and fro.  
Logan smiled and shook his head softly, "are you coming in or are you going to be my new door mat, Virge?"

"Wha… Oh, I uh- right, coming", Virgil replied, stepping over the threshold and slipping his hat onto the coatrack. Logan had disappeared into the living room, so Virgil discarded his boots and made a quick journey of the rest of the hallway. He smiled a little as he took a seat in the red chair, eyes wandering to Logan who now sat in the green chair almost opposite him. The couch had of course been replaced, a newer looking brown covered two-seater now placed where the white had once stood. 

"How was the trip?", Logan asked, eyes shining with mirth as he gestured to a pitcher of water and two glasses sitting atop the small table that once held flowers and a picture created by his mother. The picture now hung above the doorway to David Lilac's bedroom, a small homage to both father and mother. The rooms themselves had been left untouched, the ache still present after two years. 

"Good as any of my others. Brought you back your gift", Virgil said with a smile, reaching into his pocket and procuring a small, somewhat squashed violet, pale blue in colour. Logan smiled and took it from his hand, running his fingers over the soft petals. "As promised, the first flower outside of Akers town I came across on my ride. Roman made fun of me for ages, but… it was worth it."

"Thank you, Virgil. Viola Sororia, commonly known as the blue violet. Will you never cease to amaze me", Logan murmured, whispering close to the end as he studied the flower. He placed it down on his lap, turning slightly and taking one of the glasses before filling it with water and handing it off to Virgil who thanked him with quiet murmurs, downing the glass almost immediately. Logan smiled a little, a soft chuckle emanating from his chest as he stood and walked to the large chest of drawers that sat close to the doorway to the kitchen. He opened one and pulled out a small blue book. Flipping a few pages, he found what he was looking for and placed the flower inside, gently closing and pressing the two covers together.

"How many is that now?", Virgil asked, moving out of his chair and coming to stand behind Logan, eyes peering over his shoulder at the closed book. 

"Almost seventy", Logan whispered as a hand gently ran from his upper back to his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture, a small amount of pressure applied in the form of Virgil gripping his shoulder gently. 

"I made a promise, didn't I. How many more?", Virgil asked, rubbing the pad of his thumb into the nubs of Logan's spine. 

"One more. One more and that'll make it seventy", Logan murmured, setting the book back in the drawer and stacking a few heavy books on top of it, subsequently causing the pages to press together even more. 

"Then I guess I better get onto it, huh", Virgil mused softly, pulling away and starting the short walk to the front door. Logan stood still for a second before racing to the door and gripping Virgil's right arm tightly. 

"Another flower", Logan rushed out as Virgil turned his head to look at him, "please."

"Anything for you", Virgil said with a smile as he bowed a little. 

"Wait, you haven't got any supplies", Logan said, and Virgil stopped in the doorway, one hand gripping the white wood while his body turned a little. Virgil smiled a little and nodded as Logan raced back to the kitchen and began to gather food and water for the hunter. He waited in the doorway, staring out at the road before his eyes came to rest on the house opposite and his lazy smile turned to a sour frown. Thomas. Two years ago, they'd put him away behind bars, but now he'd be free. He didn't have the heart to tell Logan that soon, very soon Thomas Saderson would once again be roaming the land in search of outlaws and revenge. "You're staring at his house again. He's not coming back, Virge", a voice murmured softly as a hand wound its way into his own, fingers lacing together and holding tight as if to promise something Virgil knew he would never be able to keep. Virgil looked behind him and gave Logan a weak, soft smile trying not to let his worries and insecurities show. 

"I know, Lo. I know", Virgil said, eyes landing on the small bag of food and water. Logan glanced at it and handed it off, watching from the doorway as Virgil gave him a two-fingered salute and shoved his hand into his pocket, the other gripping the top of the supply bag. He wouldn't be able to take Di so quickly, so Virgil supposed he'd have to use one of Logan's horses. The hunter had a few to pick from; glossy brown mares, sleek grey stallions, bay and roan horses with strong legs and large muscles. He had many to pick from, but for now he'd settle on a sweet little thing named Shielder. Shielder was a white stallion with a carefree attitude, a good fifteen hands high though smaller than Di stood at sixteen hands. Originally Shielder belonged to Roman, who had since left him there while he used Cameron more often. 

Virgil took his saddle from Di's stall and grabbed a set of spare reins from atop a barrel of feed. He fitted Shielder up and tightened what he had to, adding his food and water to the load before giving the horse a pat and pulling him out of the stall to be ridden. The hunter pulled himself up, gently forcing Shielder into a slow walk while Virgil and the stallion got used to one another. After a minute or so the hunter determined them to be ready and manoeuvred Shielder out of the stables and onto the road. Peering over his shoulder the hunter could see a figure leaning against the doorframe and waving a little at his moving form. Virgil swept Shielder around and beamed at Logan who hand to hold a hand to him mouth to keep from laughing as Shielder, unused to such quick movements, reared up with Virgil seeming to panic slightly at the action. When Shielder was still and quiet once more Virgil looked over at Logan and went to tap his hat as a gesture of farewell. He then realised he had not grabbed the item and looked all over in search for it before looking at Logan who approached slowly, Virgil's hat clasped in his hands. Virgil scratched the back of his neck and bent a little allowing Logan to place the hat on his head before he sat upright in the saddle and turned Shielder towards the town.

"Come back soon", Logan called at the hunter kicked Shielder into a light trot, dust and sand clouding behind them as Logan watched them leave. He sighed and pulled his thoughts back into the present, glancing at Saderson's house before walking back to his own and closing the door. Sometimes he wished Virgil would stay, now he understood how his father and Anthony must have felt… must have. 

Tears welled up as he thought over the phrase. Must have. Not felt, must have felt. Past tense as both were no longer here. Dead, deceased, gone, no longer of this world, heaven bound, and how many ever-other ways there were to say a person - or persons in this case - were no longer alive. Logan dropped to the floor, back pressed against his door as he muffled his sobs with his hands. He wondered if it would always hurt like I did now, maybe it would dull over time to an ache instead of a sharp, stinging pain that left him breathless and tearful. Maybe one day he'd feel nothing, but he wondered if that was the best course of action. He'd rather know he could feel something, than nothing. 

 

Virgil slowed Shielder to a walk, dismounting as the pair neared the centre of the town. The posters of wanted criminals were few and far between, many having been captured by Roman and Virgil in the past few years. Virgil looked over the left-over posters, trying to find a nice, end of the line job that would hopefully bring in a nice sum to set himself up for a few weeks while he worked out what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Presumably he'd work on Logan's property, hauling in wheat and feeding the horses. Doing menial tasks that Logan would usually do. 

Somewhere along this line of thinking his mind conjured an image, an image of himself and Logan working almost side by side on the Lilac property. His eyes gazing across the shafts of wheat at Logan as he gathered apples for jam and market produce. The afternoon sun glinting off his glasses as he picked a few more apples and set down the bucket he'd been using to collect them. He turned to Virgil, wiping his forehead before waving at the hunter. His eyes shining like the sun behind his gleaming glasses, kind as ever with their special twinge of learnedness that he could've passed onto the next generation. Virgil leant on a post, part of the fence around the Lilac property, eyes gazing at the other man as he began to approach Virgil. 

Shielder let out a neigh below Virgil subsequently knocking the hunter out of his fantasy. Virgil growled softly at the horse, taking another glance at the posters before deciding that none stood out in particular. 

"Afternoon Virgil, how'd the last go?", a voice asked, and Virgil looked down to see the town sheriff walking out to post another poster. 

"Afternoon Val, not bad. Caught the outlaw and all that. What's new?", Virgil asked, leaning on the saddle and crossing his arms as Valarie approached.

"New guy on the market right now. People call him The Snake. Identified by this small snake that looks like it's going to eat his left eye", Valarie said, opening the poster and showing it to the hunter. Virgil looked it over; the price was certainly high, but something about the guy seemed… familiar, dangerous maybe. The hunter ran a hand over his chin and let out a sound of interest, holding out a hand for the poster which the sheriff gave him quickly.

"Thanks for the challenge Val. I'll let ya know how it goes", Virgil said with a tilt of his hat and a smirk before he kicked Shielder into high gear and sped off into the desert. Valarie sighed and returned to her office, putting away her hammer and nails for another day. 

Virgil smiled as the wind whipped his face, sand scratching his cheeks as he pushed Shielder into the desert without worry. He knew he should have stopped in town to properly resupply, though Logan's gift was good it would never be able to compare to things Virgil could buy at general stores and the like. Fruits like apples were only good for a few days after picking, especially if they were ripe like the ones Logan usually gave him. The grains and hay for himself and Shielder would last longer, but he could only keep them for so long. Water filled canteens like the ones Logan gave him would last the longest.

Birds cawed overhead, a small flock passing from his east to his west. From below he couldn't tell what sort they were, the sun causing their colours to be lost on him and their shapes distorted by height and bright light. Their calls were no help, bird calls were not something Virgil knew too much about regardless of how much time he spent in the wilderness. His hearing picked up on the sounds of the bird calls, wings fluttering and a tree not far of creaking under the weight of so many birds. Virgil's mind conjured up the picture of a small, skinny tree bending under hundreds of crows - he chuckled.

Shielder slowed to a near stop but continued to move at an extremely slow pace as Virgil took out the poster and looked it over. True to Val's word The Snake, named as such in the wanted section below, had a very distinctive tattoo on his left cheek. The poster had very little detail on it of the man himself, but Virgil rolled it up and decided that for once that wouldn't impede his search for the man. He would find the man, claim the reward, lock the crook up and finally settle down living a less dangerous life on Logan's property. 

Virgil sped Shielder up, passing by trees and rocks, looming boulders and piles of sand. The sun was slowly setting behind him; red and peach, pink and blue tones lighting up the sky as greedy clouds and sand particles swallowed the light, shining and reflecting the light they took so carelessly. Soon it would be night and Virgil would rather reach Joan's old bar before dark. He made a few enemies when he switched from being an outlaw to being a hunter, and many of those enemies would likely be out here tonight, waiting for prey to fall into their gaping jaws. Virgil sighed a little at the sight of the bar, peeking out over the top of a hill, as dilapidated and run down as ever. He'd be able to sleep there tonight, but at first light he'd leave to find The Snake, all he really wanted was to return home right now. He'd just keep reminding himself that this was his last job. 

He slowed Shielder to a halt outside the bar and looked around, searching for stray outlaws and unwanted company. Upon finding neither Virgil slipped of Shielder and tied the horse up outside, he'd hope for the best and find out when morning came. He took his supplies and made his way inside the bar, locking up the doors and windows behind him so as not to attract unwanted attention. The hunter set up quickly and quietly, making sure everything he needed was out and ready whilst everything else was set away if he needed to make a hasty retreat. He ate in small bites, savouring the sweet golden-red apples that made him feel homesick. 

After setting about loading up his pistol and checking to see if any liquor was still present, Virgil sat down and set his eyes on the only not covered window. The covering had been torn to rags, holes the size of a human head ripped in the greyed cloth. Stars shone brightly through the holes, winking at him as if they knew all his secrets - which them probably did, he'd been on the open road for long enough. The moon was a pool of shining silver white in the sky casting its glow on the surrounding land.  
Virgil smiled and lay down, eyes closing as the night wore on. That night he dreamt of lakes of silver, stalks of golden wheat and a face so full of love it made him feel like the world belonged to him. Trees with yellow-green leaves and grass that tickled his feet, hands that held him close and a voice deep and comforting. The sky was a mass of dark blue yet light still illuminated the world as if it were day, the sun and moon both shone and the world around him moved like water. That night he dreamt of a person he'd long hoped would never appear in his dreams, a person he longed he would never feel for, a person he had sworn to protect and had yet to let down. Someone he never wanted to disappoint or hurt, someone he never wanted to see on the other end of a pistol. But in his dream, they ended up being and the sound of their screams tore him from his dream and back into the real world with a cry of their name. 

He breathed heavily for a few minutes, freezing as he heard something rustle up some of the sand and rocks outside, the clacking of hooves on stone an indicator of a horse. His insides turned to ice as he grabbed the closest pistol he had by him, arming himself and standing to approach the door as slowly as he could. Virgil nudged his pistol through the door before peeking through and letting out a relieved sigh when the white figure of his horse turned to him and shuffled about a little, hooves making a clicking sound against the ground below. The hunter visibly deflated out of relief, finding this outcome much more favourable than meeting an ex-colleague. He turned around and scooted back inside to get some more rest but found himself tossing and turning in a never-ending cycle of the final image his mind had conjured in his dream presented to his closed eyes over and over again.

When morning came finally Virgil was more or less exhausted, but he needed to capture The Snake and that was that. So, with difficulty he was used to, he stood on wobbly legs and packed up everything he could, arming himself and setting off again atop Shielder. Shielder seemed to be more energized than he had been the previous day and as such was seemingly eager to run as fast as he could for Virgil, who was just as happy by this revelation as his horse seemed to be. They sped off into the desert, small clouds of dust and sand puffing up behind them as they made their way to the next closest town where Virgil knew The Snake would be most welcome, Heather Ville. Heather Ville was not as nice as the name may lead some to think, far from the beauty of the flower it was named after it was overrun with outlaws, crime ran rampant in the streets and never stopped. The officials were corrupt, the hunters dared not tread there, and the people were evil in almost all senses of the word. 

Heather Ville was a day and a half's ride from Akers town, even on horseback and right now from where Virgil was it'd take him the better part of the morning to reach it. So, he pulled down his hat, gripped the reins tightly and kicked Shielder into high gear. If he was to get home before the week was up he'd need to move fast. A flash of pale purple and red caught his eye and he pulled Shielder to an unexpected stop. A few strands of lavender stuck out of the rough ground around Joan's bar, next to these stood a proud looking but small bush of red roses. He'd seen both at the same time, so both would have to come with him. Virgil smiled as he dismounted and pulled out a dagger, cutting off a single red rose and a single stalk of lavender. He eased them into his pocket and pulled himself back up onto Shielder's saddle, safe in the knowledge he'd gotten what he promised to Logan. 

 

Virgil stiffened as he entered the town, people looking him up and down as he rode in atop Shielder. The white horse and his black attire stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd of leather brown and dust covered people. He had to fight the urged to glare at a few that walked too close for his liking, choosing to steer Shielder away from them as best he could. The hunter could feel their eyes boring holes into his back, carving into him like knives, but he kept his cool and continued onwards toward the only bar in Heather Ville. After tying Shielder up he slipped off and walked inside, taking a seat at one of the many small tables as he watched for The Snake. It was almost night before Virgil even caught a glimpse of the man, but one wicked grin and the glisten of darkened skin was enough to draw his attention, and there he was - The Snake - not a table away from him calmly sipping at some sort of alcoholic drink with another person. Virgil couldn't see their face but to be involved with The Snake, they had to be fairly high ranking in the outlaw world. 

"You just going to sit here, or do you want something?", a lady asked, giving Virgil a bored look as she tried to determine his immediate worth to her. Virgil shook his head and looked back at The Snake and his partner. It was still too early to tell if Virgil knew the person, so we went about looking them over. Somewhat broad shoulders with a small scar on the right side of their neck, their hat covered their hair so their hair must be rather short, they didn't have many defined muscles but there were some semi-defined ones in their upper arms, a pistol tucked beneath their coat along with a dagger, light skin tone with short fingernails. Virgil sat back and ran through a set of people in his mind with those same characteristics, not many jumped out at him immediately. 

The person coughed lightly before standing and Virgil pressed himself further into the chair he was in, trying to fade into the darkness around him. His eyes flicked up to The Snake and the person he was with, and he almost died right on the spot. Thomas Saderson smirked lightly as he walked past Virgil, completely ignoring him if he even noticed Virgil was there to begin with. The Snake followed silently, a soft almost fond smile creeping onto his face as he exited the bar behind the man. Virgil swallowed and felt his bones turn to liquid, unable to move even the smallest muscle as the sounds around him turned to white noise and a high-pitched wailing. His dream from the night before flashed through his mind and he stood slowly on shaky legs. He needed to find out where they were going, what they were doing, he needed to get out of here. 

Virgil was at his horse seconds later, pulling Shielder away from the bar and into the street before mounting the white stallion and searching the crowd for the face he knew so well. There in the distance he could see them, Thomas pulling himself onto a sleek looking brown steed with The Snake not far behind on his own darker brown horse. They were geared up and moving slowly towards the exit of Heather Ville. Virgil looked from side to side before spotting an alleyway he could take to another smaller exit, choosing that above following the two outright. 

The hunter moved Shielder into the alleyway and along it quickly, trying to keep the horse's movements quiet as they made their way to the edge of the town. From the exit of the alleyway he could see them trailing sand and dust, riding through the desert together. It made Virgil's stomach turn, two high class outlaws riding together so fondly. What could they possibly be doing together? Why on earth would Thomas work with The Snake? Virgil turned Shielder off onto a less travelled path that would take him a longer way, but a more inconspicuous way. He needed to get The Snake's reward and Thomas' must be at least a little higher. With a boot to Shielder's sides the two started off on their own path, tracking the outlaws across the desert. 

 

Virgil grumbled to himself as he settled down for the night, the wind blowing hot and heavy against his face as the sun began to set. He opened his canteen and jiggled the remaining water about a little before capping it once more and letting out a long exhale. Two weeks. He'd been after the absolute scum - Thomas and The Snake - for two whole weeks. Virgil was so sick and tired of it all, normal hunts took between a day and three days. Two weeks away from the people he loved and cared for felt like an eternity. He was dying for some of Pat's liquor, dying for Roman's stupidly over the top dramatizations, dying for just one of the Lilac property's apples. Virgil wanted to go home, but here he was, two weeks in and not a sliver closer to capturing the two crooks he was after. 

The hunter scratched his cheek and looked up at the stars above. The sunlight had gone out not five minutes earlier, but the stars shone so brightly it was as if it were the middle of the night. A small smile softened Virgil's expression, fatigue and agitation melting away to the soft gooey feelings of love that melted his entire being like honey warmed until it turned fluid like water. Seeing the stars, he felt as if he were on cloud nine, he had always loved the stars after all and knowing someone else would be looking up at them and thinking about him made him smile. He reached a hand up, tracing patterns in the air above his head and listening to the phantom murmurings that would occasionally accommodate the space in his heart when he was being as still as this, seeing the stars like this. Phantom murmurings that wounded an awful lot like a voice he heard on a daily basis, a voice that would murmur about the stars and astronomy, a voice that was deep but comforting, that stole a place in his mind. A voice he'd heard scream and cry, whisper and shout, whimper and laugh. It brought a large grin to his face, a dopey smile that would no doubt last for hours. 

A horse's whinny broke Virgil from his thoughts and he turned to Shielder, head perked up and ears spinning softly to and fro. Virgil stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair before setting his hat on firmly and gathering his things. He was equipping Shielder for travel when he heard the sound of hoof beats on sand closing in on his position, he was quick to finish his preparation and hop atop his horse ready to make a hasty exit. A laugh split the near silent air and Virgil shivered at the familiarity of it, he rode Shielder off the track and behind a boulder, jumping off and holding the horse's reins to make sure the beast wouldn't run from him. The hoof beats came to a rest a minute later, the sound of someone sliding off a horse arising from behind the boulder. There was some shuffling then another sound of someone dismounting a horse. That could only mean there were two riders out there and Virgil, unfortunately, only had a few weapons that would be able to take out both riders if he were caught. There was a murmur of mingled voices before one spoke clearly. 

"So why are we going to Akers town?", it asked, sharp as a knife but grumbled out as if the owner was lacking in sleep. 

"If I have to repeat myself one more damned time I'll slit your throat, Snake. Now help me with the fire", a familiar voice growled, and Virgil clasped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming in fury. Thomas and The Snake were here, not five feet from him and he could barely do a thing to them. There was a little more shuffling, a little light and finally the smell of smoke on the hot breeze. Virgil peeked his head out around the rock and took in the sight before him. Two men sitting opposite each other with a fire between them chewed some bread with their horses tied up next to Thomas. He hadn't changed much, he looked a little more tired and a little less handsome, but the deadly smooth charm was still there. The Snake seemed less tired, but he was no less deadly than Thomas, that was a fact. 

"So why do you want him dead?", The Snake asked casually and Thomas' eyes flicked up from the ground, narrowing at the man across from him. 

With a twist of his lip he spoke, "I've told you everything you need to know, why do you want me to repeat myself?"

"I just want a reminder", The Snake said, voice light and airy as he raised his hands in a relaxed but defensive position. Thomas rolled his eyes and started eating, but Virgil had already connected the dots. If they were headed to Akers town they were off to kill Logan, something Virgil strongly refuted in the past, and something he would kill to stop now. He knew jail was too good for Saderson, he'd always known that. Death was too good for him as well, but it'd have to do. Virgil quietly hatched a plan as he waited for one of them to nod off. He just needed to move quietly and luckily for him, that was his special talent. 

It took a good hour or so for Thomas to nod off, The Snake seeming to relax and take in the stars above. Virgil swallowed softly and grabbed some rope, cutting it into six somewhat equal lengths. He moved like a breeze, soft and gentle as he crossed to the outlaws and stood behind The Snake, who had at this point closed his eyes in favour of resting them. The first thing Virgil did was wrap one length around The Snake's mouth, effectively silencing him as he struggled, and Virgil choked him quietly. The Snake's struggling ceased, and Virgil tied his ankles and wrists up, one down. Virgil headed to Thomas to repeat the process only to be met with the barrel of a pistol. 

"Now, now now. What do we have here?", Thomas asked, voice like poison and smile sharp as a blade. His eyes were narrowed and finger ready to pull the trigger and land a bullet between Virgil's eyes. "Haven't seen you in quite some time, Virgil. How have you been?", the outlaw asked, smile curving a fraction more and lips tightening around pearly white teeth. Virgil didn't say a word, more focused on what he should not to say than what he should say. Thomas sighed and pulled his pistol back before tapping the end gently against Virgil's forehead, "you really should answer my questions, Virge."

"Don't call me that", Virgil growled, hands still gripping the rope, but moving downwards ever so slightly so as not to be detected by Thomas. The man didn't seem to notice, but Virgil could have cared less. He just needed to shoot Thomas, pack them both up and claim his reward. His hand grazed his pocket and the small bulge of the rose head in it made his heart flutter a tad at the idea of returning home with Thomas in tow. 

"I'll call you what I want. I may not own you like I did before, but you're still the one at a disadvantage here", Thomas said, and Virgil's lips quirked in a tiny smile. 

Virgil gripped his pistol, getting his body ready to leap out of the way, "is that so?"

"Yes, it is so. Why're you smiling?", Thomas asked, voice a deep growl of anger. 

Virgil hummed lightly, smile spreading, "because the way I see it, you're the one with a disadvantage here."

"What?", Thomas asked, seeming genuinely surprised by the hunter's words. Virgil hummed a little more and darted down and to the right, knowing that was Thomas' weaker side. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Thomas' head just as the outlaw spun to face him. Thomas pulled up his own, but Virgil quickly knocked it to the side, finger on the trigger of his pistol, ready to shoot a bloody hole between the man's eyes. The outlaw held his hands up, quivering with terror as he surrendered quietly. 

"Good, now for good measure", Virgil said before aiming and shooting Thomas' left foot. The outlaw howled in pain, blood dirtying the sand underneath and staining it an ugly red colour. With that injury it'd be easier to tie him up, Virgil mused before getting to work tying Thomas' hands behind his back and wrapping a piece of rope around his mouth, tightening it so it sat between Thomas' teeth. The outlaw growled softly, but Virgil knew he was done with everything; being an outlaw, getting hurt, being cut down to size. 

Virgil wasn't cruel though and he tended Thomas' wound as best he could with his limited resources before tying the two to their horses and covering them with their coats to shield them from the sun. He rode Shielder with the other horse's trailing behind him and smiled as he neared Akers town gates. Soon he'd be home and then he'd finally put all his days of hunting and thieving behind him. He could almost taste the liquor, the apples, the jam and bread. 

Valarie was already outside, putting up more wanted posters as Virgil rode in with the two behind him. At first the sheriff could barely speak before she was shaking his hand vigorously and congratulating him. With the same flare Virgil had come to expect from Roman, he dismounted Shielder and bowed to Valarie before pulling Thomas off the horse and half carrying him inside the office, ready to be gaoled for however long, he hoped it'd be a lifetime sentence this time. He pulled The Snake off his horse and then gave Valarie a smile, the sheriff ran inside to gather his reward, returning with a small bag of coins and a smile of her own.

"Thank you, Virge. That's two criminals. It… it was a pleasure doing business with you", Valarie said as Thomas shouted at Virgil from inside the office. Vulgar names falling from his lips as Virgil merely smiled and turned, grabbing Shielder's reins and beginning to mount him once more. 

"Please was all mine, Val", Virgil murmured as he placed the bag in his saddle bag and turned back to her. 

"Oh, wait. Take the horses, I've got no use for them and they'll be auctioned off anyway", Valarie said with a smile and Virgil nodded before tying their reins to Shielder's saddle. He waved at the sheriff before making his way up the hill. He had someone he needed to see. 

 

Time had always been cruel to Logan. Too fast, yet too slow. It had passed by so quickly when he was with Anthony or Roman, and now it dragged on as he waited for Virgil to come home. It'd been at the very least two weeks, but Logan knew better than to count the days until the hunter's return. It'd only make the whole process drag on longer and he'd rather not spend day after day wondering when the man would return home. 

Logan reached up to grab another apple, sighing as he dusted it off and set it in the large bucket he'd used to collect all the other apples on his property. It was still weird to call it that, though it was indeed his property. He bit his lip as he picked the last apple on the tree, dropping it in and picking up the bucket with little difficulty. After all the labour he'd dealt with, such a weight was easy to hold. He was halfway back to the house when he caught a glimpse of black, white and brown. At first, he shook his head, disregarding it for nothing, but his heart swelled as thoughts raced through his mind. Could it be he was home?

The ex-hunter didn't want to get his hopes up too high, but hearing the whinnies and neighs of horses, the sounds of stall doors opening and closing, it was enough to make his heart skip a beat and have him racing for the house. He dropped the bucket by the back door, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it as he heard three knocks on the front door. He sprinted to it, almost throwing it open but choosing to remain somewhat composed he opened it slowly and smiled up at the black decked figure before him. 

Virgil smiled down at him before stepping into the house and pulling off his hat. He hung it on the coat rack and followed the owner through to the living room where he took a seat in the red chair and smiled at Logan. 

"You're finally back", Logan said, voice a near whisper as he tried to contain all the emotions he was feeling. 

"Yeah, finally back", Virgil confirmed as he shifted in the seat. Logan let out a sigh and collapsed in his chair, head tilting back as he seemed to relax for the first time in days, all stress leaving his body at once as Virgil fiddled with something in his pocket. 

"You're done", Logan whispered into the silence and Virgil nodded gently at the words, smiling softly at Logan's relaxed form across from him. 

"Yeah, I got your flower", Virgil murmured, standing and holding out a hand to Logan who took it and stood gingerly. Logan walked to the chest of drawers, drawing out his book and smiling down at it as Virgil reached around him and placed the stalk of lavender on the cover. "Lavender for you, today", Virgil whispered, and Logan opened the book, flipping the pages over and past the blue violet to the final page in the book where he placed the stalk and closed it gently, sitting it atop the drawers now instead of inside. 

"All done", Logan said turning around and looking around to find no sign of Virgil. He heard a cough and looked down where the hunter was kneeling before him a dark red dried rose clasped in his fingers, extended upwards towards Logan who stopped and looked at it. It was a little squished and the stem was dark with age, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Logan took the flower gently and smiled down at the rose in his hands. 

"All done", Virgil said, standing and gently taking one of Logan's hands in his own looking behind the ex-hunter at the cabinet. "Excuse me for one second", Virgil said as he passed Logan to the drawers and opened one of them. He pulled out a small box, no bigger than his hand. Virgil clasped it tight and turned to Logan, offering it to him with a small smile. The man took it and looked it over; it was a blue box with a small hinge at the back for opening, covered in small markings and etchings, made of oak if he had to guess. He ran his fingers over them, handing his rose to Virgil as he opened the box. Inside was a small cushion with a divot in the centre, the cushion was made of crushed red velvet, but it was the item in the centre that caught Logan's eye the most. In the centre was a small golden band with a small gemstone shining a dark blue. It was simple yet beautiful, so lovely it had Logan lost for words. "It's yours… if you'll have me", Virgil said with a small smile and Logan looked up at him. Tears streamed down Logan's face, collecting on his chin and dripping onto his shirt, a hand came to his mouth as he stifled a sob and nodded vehemently at Virgil. Virgil smiled, chuckled and swooped in, gripping Logan around his waist and giving the man a small kiss, "I'll take that as a yes then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to WoW for their title idea, as you can see their idea was the one picked for the title. I'm glad we could all take this little journey together and I hope you enjoy the upcoming stories I'll be working on. Yours always, Chaos <3


End file.
